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#the thing is the show has surprised me in all good ways so far so I should expect the same thing from the Claudia part
worldofkuro · 1 day
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Painted Smile
Painted Smile VI
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Pairing: Alastor x Female! Reader
Summary: You couldn't wait to meet new friends. What you didn't expect was this smiling little boy, only one year older than you, that would take such a big place in your life.
Notes: It's a long chapter because it's Alastor's Point of View from the beginning until the end of Chapter IV. There is dark theme here, like racism, blood, dark thoughts. But I guess you know about it, it is about Alastor's story ! Please enjoy and tell me your thoughts, if you like having a long chapter about Alastor's thoughts.
“ Do you promise to be a good boy bébé?”
Alastor smiled at his mother and nodded. He would always be good for his mother, even if he didn’t like what he was supposed to do. Today, his mother had invited an old friend of hers, someone she used to know before she married his father, and this woman would bring her child with her, hoping that they could play together. His mother was so excited.
He didn’t care about them, but if his mother was happy, he'd put on a show.
He went into his bedroom to be sure everything was clean, but mostly to be sure that his secrets were kept safe. He took his journal, where all of his thoughts were written down. He hid it under a pile of clothes, if his father were to fall upon it,  it would be a disaster and frankly, he didn’t want to get into another beating.
He lifted his head up as he heard noises downstairs. So the parasites have finally come. He looked at himself in the mirror and smiled brightly. Easy. He tried different types of smiles before going downstairs quietly. He has learned not to make noises when he was walking, sometimes he could walk behind his fathers without him noticing. 
And there you were. He tilted his head as he saw you took a photo and stared at it. You didn’t even sense him, you weren’t paying attention to what was going on around you. Your life must be so easy.
“  Do you not know that it is rather rude to touch others' belongings?”
He stopped himself from chuckling as you jumped, surprised. Heh, too easy.
“And it is rude to come unannounced behind a lady!” 
A lady? His mother was a lady. Always proper, always smiling… You? You were… a naive, uninteresting girl so far. He did say to his mother that he would play nice… But he couldn’t help himself.
“ I see no lady.”
He wanted to laugh at your expression. How strange. You were giving him your reaction without faking it. In this house, everyone was faking it to make it out alive, even his Mother, faking a smile so his father could be “happy”. And when the emotion wasn't faked, it usually meant that problems were on their way. But you, you just expressed your expression out loud, without fearing it could put you in trouble. How strange. 
He turned his head toward his mother who introduced you both. He was ready to go shake your hand but you came toward him and kissed him on both cheeks. The only person who kissed him like this was his mother. Who did you think you were ? His cheeks flushed with anger but he contained himself,  not here, not in front of his mother… You wanted to play that game? Alright.
He waited for both of your mothers to go back in the kitchen before stepping closer to you, his face near yours. Hah, how you liked it when someone came too close toward you. He stared at your eyes, your eyes that seemed to say so many things, things he couldn’t comprehend, that he couldn’t grasp because he… he wasn't like you.
“ It’s rude to look at someone face this close!”
He almost coughed, you were the one who kissed him first but now HE was the one being rude? He easily made a lie saying he needed to be close to see. He saw your eyes relax and you almost seemed sorry. Were you watching him with pity? Oh no, he wouldn’t accept it. He’d prefer seeing you angry at him than watching him as if he was some kind of helpless kid who couldn’t fight for himself. 
“ But now that I have seen you up close I can clearly say… I see no lady.”
He smiled when he saw your angry face.
----
Your parents were really curious about him. He didn’t really want to talk with them but he put on his mask and talked about school and other boring stuff. He almost lost his calm when he felt you kicked him in the shin. He stared at you as you were beaming with pride and joy because you were now the centre of attention. How naively cute.
His mother always told him to never hit a girl but… If it was an accident ? And you were the one to begin this war. He kicked you on the same spot you had kicked him. His smile widened when he saw you spilled your drink on the table. You were panicking so much and you had every reason to be.. if his father were to be here. He stared at you, drinking.  You were a living experiment with your emotions shown so easily. You were still naive… But a tiny bit interesting. 
He stood up from his chair when his mother invited you both to play outside. He walked in front of you but he was looking at your shadows which made it so easy to dodge your so-called kick. He looked at you with a beaming smile when he spotted your face. You seemed so surprised.. and a bit impressed.
“ So unladylike.”
He watched you as you stuck your tongue to him, he was sure you were thinking he couldn’t see you. How funny. He let you go toward the swing and watched you as you went higher and higher with each swing. He walked toward you as you closed your eyes and arched your back toward the ground. You seemed so light, like you could just fly at any moment. Now he was curious.
“Jump.”
You didn’t seem keen on jumping, saying things like you could hurt yourself or dirtying your dress. He kept his smile but felt kind of disappointed. Oh well, maybe you weren’t interested. 
Or maybe you were!
He stared at you as you jumped when the swing was in its highest spot. He opened his mouth as he saw you, almost floating in the air, you seemed so free, so alive, so colourful, so… out of reach. He wanted to drag you down in hell with him. In his personal hell. In his life. Why were you so happy and he was–
“ Wow! Did you see that Alastor ! I did it ! Haha ! That was super amazing !”  you laughed. He looked at you, you were looking at him like you wanted him to be proud of you. You were beaming, you were… cute. You just jumped off a swing because he dared you to do it and you did it. No question asked. Most of the people would have said they didn’t want to play with him and left. But you stayed. Strange…
He tried to suppress his laugh when you dared him to climb the tree. So easy. Once he climbed it he watched you. Now you were the one on the floor while he was near the sky. He looked at you as you watched him, impressed. It made him feel something so he decided to tease you once again.
“ I should thank you, now that I’m here, I don’t have to see your face.”
“ My face is pretty !”
Yes, it was.
“ Pretty ugly.”
“ Alastor !”
You played all afternoon, you always had another game to play, another riddle to solve. Your mind was always thinking about something new… But then you put your hand on his eyes and said that you had a great time with him. What kind of manipulative game was that? Saying a secret, trusting the other person to hold their tongue and never breathe a word of what you just said? How could you be so naive ? Life wasn’t fair. Sharing secrets would make you weak. Never reveal your scars, your secrets or your emotions. 
He asked for another game, not wanting to see your face. Did you know that he could see everything in your eyes? Was that why you said your secret with a hand in front of his eyes, so he couldn’t see if you were in pain or happy? 
He looked at you as you proposed  a game of hide and seek. How cute. He would find you. He was a master of “hunting”. He closed his eyes and counted until fifty. He could already hear where you were going as you ran toward the forest. He smiled as he made you think he didn’t know where you were, he waited some time so you could be so sure of yourself you wouldn’t see him come.
And there you were.
“ Found you.”
You ran.
But what shocked him even further was that he couldn’t catch you. It was like you were flying through the grass, you weren’t watching where you were putting your feet while he was watching the floor, dodging the puddle of mudd, jumping over the branches that would have made him fall. He watched as you ran, he wanted to catch you. He didn’t know why, maybe to prove something to himself. 
It seemed like it was time to say goodbye, he didn’t even see the time passing which was surprising, he always knew what time it was, knowing when his father would come back. You came toward him, you seemed sad.
“ Well.. Goodbye…”
Were you really sad ? How cute. But if it was the last time that he saw you, he would rather see you smile.. And , well , he wasn’t going to see you again right? He could tell you a secret. He covered your eyes.
“ I had fun and… you are pretty.” 
He went to his mother as he watched you and your family leaving his house. When he went back home, his mother was watching him with an expectant smile. He tilted his hand, smiling at her, she seemed to have had a great afternoon, he was relieved.
“ Did you have a great time Alastor?”
He froze for a second. Did he? He stared at his hand, the hand that didn’t manage to catch you. Well, you were like a fresh breeze. Needed but short. He would have to live once again without feeling it.
“ Yes, I had a great time.”
—----
Alastor was doing his homework in the kitchen while his mother was cooking. Most of the time, his Father was away all week because he worked far from home, so his boss would give him a place to stay to avoid doing long travel. Which meant, when it was the weekend, his Father would do nothing but lay around in the house and if he had a bad week, well.. Let’s just say that his body remembered those days.
There, done! 
He stood up from his chair, now that his homeworks was done, he could go and listen to his radio. He went to his bedroom and sat on his desk, listening to the radio until he heard noises downstairs. He didn’t remember his Mother telling him that they would have guests over… And then he heard them. Your footsteps. What was that feeling? His heart was beating louder as your footsteps were getting closer and closer.
He smirked when he heard his door open, did you really think you were being quiet ? He stayed silent waiting to feel you closer to him, and once he saw your shadow, he opened his mouth.
“ How rude, entering a boy’s bedroom without permission.”
“ I see no boy.”
He smiled as he approached his face towards yours making you blush. He didn’t know why, but he was… content seeing you in front of him with all of your emotions written across your face. 
But he didn’t like this thought.
The fact that just your presence could make him feel things. You didn’t have the rights. That would mean that you had the upper hand on him, playing with him. No, you couldn’t know.
“ Why are you here?”
And there it was. You looked like a kicked puppy. He didn’t like it. He clearly didn’t like it. You were cute like this but he’d rather see you smiling even if he didn’t like what it made him feel. He suppressed his need to sigh at your face. You stuck your tongue at him, trying to hide the fact that he hurted you. You really were the cutest. Didn’t you see that he already saw your heartbroken expression? Seems like he needed to make things right. He touched your shoulder but you didn’t move. You were such an obstinate brat. He really was trying to be nice ! He sighed. Well… 
He covered your eyes, smiling when he saw you flinching and spoke.
“ I didn’t expect…to be content to see you today.”
Your smile was really blinding. He wondered if you were aware of it? How could you smile so easily without fearing that you showed too much emotion? How could you trust him not to use the information you just told him with your smile: You liked being with him. 
He was almost worried for your future. He looked at your hands as you raised it toward his face, clearly trying to cover his eyes. You really liked to touch him, didn’t you? He helped you as he took your hand and placed it in front of his eyes. Now what?
“ I wanted to see you too.” you confessed.
So that’s what it was.
He wanted to see you too.
How could you speak so freely? He took your hands off him and stared at you, maybe if he stared long enough in your eyes, he could get an answer. The only answer he got? He didn’t flinch when you kissed his cheeks not because he was scared but because didn’t feel the need to push you away. How strange…
He smirked as you told him about making him food. So you asked about him. You didn’t forget about him. Interesting..
He tilted his head as you ordered him to dance. He could dance, his Mother had teached him, he couldn’t wait but show you. He gave you a big smile and held his hand toward you but you went off script. You took his hand and just started to jump around, holding his hand. You encouraged him to do just like you but he was so confused. Was that dancing ? Maybe it was your way of dancing… Well, it was chaotically cute.. But let him show you how it’s done.
He took your hands and twirled you just like his Mother taught him. You seemed impressed once again, he really liked that. He didn’t know why but he wanted you to keep on watching him like this. You let go of his hand and walked toward his bed before throwing his pillow in his face. He didn’t expect it. He stared at your laughing face. You thought you were funny huh?
He took the pillow and ran toward you, pinning you on the floor and hitting you softly with his pillow. “ Rule number one, never drop your guard.” He hitted you with his pillow. “ Rule number two, I’m the strongest here.” he hitted you once again. “ Rule number three, give up.” He smiled as he watched you trying to sit up. You were really trying to get away ? He held the pillow above his head and then he saw it.
Your gaze fell on a bruise from his father. Ah, were you going to ask questions? What excuses should he invent this time? He tried to help his mother but failed? No, it was impossible. As he was swimming through his thoughts you took his hand, placed it on your eyes and  began to talk. You talked and talked and talked, you really couldn’t stop huh?
But he listened.
To every word.
He stood up and helped you when he heard his mother calling you downstairs. He followed you to the sofa and sat down, listening to your mothers talking. Seemed like you weren’t as patient as him, he could already see boredom settling on your face. But then you ran off the living room saying stuff about a kitty. He smiled at the ladies and went outstairs, staring at you and the cat. This bloody cat who was always hissing at him…
Maybe if he stopped affraying it, the cat would calm down? Huh…
He came closer and as expected the cat began to hiss but then it hurted you. He stared at your bleeding hand and took it in his. You were trying so hard not to cry. Why? You’ve been showing him every single of your emotions since you have met, why would you hide something that he wanted to see? Why did you not want to share yourself with him? He didn’t remember the last time he or his Mother cried. What would you look like? Without even being aware he dug his nails in your cut making you scream. He stared at you, you didn’t seem angry at him, but confused.  
“ Don’t be ashamed, you can cry. I… I think I want you to cry.” Now he was the one being confused.  Why would he want to see you cry? Because that means you trusted him enough to show yourself at your weakest. You began to cry, louder than necessary for such a little cut. But he let you. You were crying in front of him without feeling ashamed. You trusted him not to hurt you even more. You were an open book for him, a book he wanted to keep on reading.
But he’d rather see you smile.
He opened his mouth, ready to make a joke but he froze once he heard his voice.
“Alastor.”
He kept you against him. He remembered his Father hitting him because he was crying, he needed to hide your tears from his Father. He didn’t deserve to see you in that state. He didn’t trust his Father and neither should you.
“ Why is this chick crying ? For God’s sake, what have you done boy?”
“ The cat scratched her.”
“ This stupid cat… I’ll shoot it next time.”
He stared as the man went inside the house. It was going to be a hard night… He didn’t want to explain everything to you about his Father, you didn’t need to know. All you needed to know was how to be safe from this man. He covered your eyes with his hand.
“ Never cry in front of this man.”
He didn’t let go of you until you nodded. Then he took you to his Mother so she could clean your cut. Better safe than sorry.
Before leaving you told him about the pizza that you made with your Mother. He sneaked with you to the kitchen, he knew that his Father would eat all of the food you made so he wanted to share it with you before it could be stolen from him.  You were so eager for his feedback, he almost wanted to say it tasted bad but after what he did to your hand he decided to be honest and made the promise to cook you something next time. You beamed and kissed him on both cheeks before leaving with your Mother.
—--
He was so excited.
His Mother had told him that you would have a sleep over while his Father wasn’t home. It was perfect! He also had another game he wanted to play with you. His Mother had bought him a microphone thanks to his good grades at school. He wanted to do a radio broadcast with you. He wanted to share his dream with you just like you shared your emotions with him. He was in his bedroom, re-reading his note to be sure that everything was perfect. He asked his mother to do his hair like adults, so now his hair was slicked back. He looked at himself in the mirror. That would do. 
“ Can I come in yet?” you asked, outside Alastor’s bedroom, waiting for him to open the door.
His grin got even bigger. He opened his bedroom door and stared at your outfit. You were cute, as always. You kissed him on both cheeks, like usual and he tugged you inside his now radio booth! 
“ Welcome to my humble Radiobooth !” He said with glee as he shoved you on a chair. “ Welcome New Orleans to Alastor’s podcast ! Thank you for tuning in, today I’m thrilled to announce that I will not be alone, I am blessed with the best singer in all Lousianna !” he claimed and shoved the microphone to your face. You gave him a big smile and began to introduce yourself even saying he was the best radio host of all New Orleans. He couldn’t help giggling, you were playing your part perfectly. Maybe when he would have had his own radio station he would invite you as a very special guest. 
He kept talking as you read the notes he had just given you, he kind of expected you to fumble but once again you surprised him. You were natural, talking about what was written on his notes but then you went off script and made him laugh. You were amazing.
He kept doing his part as the radio host, explaining about why your sleepover has to be delayed to this day. You didn’t ask much more information but was happy he punched the boy who badmouthed his mother. Calling her such a disgusting word…
You both kept playing, sometimes he would forget about your presence, but when he noticed that his voice was the only thing he could hear he would turn toward you, ordering you to talk. You had a pretty voice, why not use it?
Well, he didn’t expect you to raise your voice against him when he said he couldn’t understand people liking sweet things. You were so convinced that there was something wrong with him for not liking sweets. Well, shouldn’t you feel appreciated ? You were the sweetest thing he ever laid his eyes upon and he kept you by his side, didn’t he? He closed his eyes still smiling as you kept blablating with his Mother’s laugh echoing in his bedroom. He liked it. He really liked this moment, if he could, he would like to record this moment so he could play it again and again.
After his Mother’s departure he went toward the letter he wrote with questions for you. You thought the game was over? Think again.
He asked you many questions, well of course the questions weren’t from him, but from the audience ! You answered to all of them honestly and there came the last one. He took the letter and read it to you.
“ And now, our last question before our guest’s performance. What do you think about our dear radio host Alastor ?”
He could see your answer in your eyes before you even opened your mouth. He already knew what you were about to say. He already knew. But he was waiting eagerly so you could say those words he desperately needed to hear. Say it, say it, say it…
“ He is the best!”
Yes, and so were you.
And you needed to know it.
He tugged you downstairs saying you needed to sing or the broadcast couldn’t end. He sat in front of the piano as you were flustered with his microphone in your hands.  He smiled at you and then closed his eyes. He wanted you to feel powerful. But first, he needed you to be less insecure about your abilities. So the first lesson would be: singing.
And sing you did. When you stopped being a coward and really sang like the singer that you were, he couldn't help but open his eyes to admire you. Even if some of the notes weren’t the best, you were giving it your all. You were giving him all of you at that moment. 
He couldn’t be more proud.
You were the best.
He couldn’t stop himself from crushing you against him as he said goodbye to your audience. Everything was perfect, you were here, his mother too and there were smiles on every lips. 
—--
“ We are still playing with Alastor! When we are finished, I will join you.” you said with a shy smile, holding a plushie. He was behind you, waiting for his Mother's command. Truthfully, he didn’t want you to go to sleep with his Mother right away. He still had other games he would like to play with you. As soon as his Mother accepted, you ran into his bedroom with him following you. You were on his bed with this…
“ What is it ?”
“ Well, first of all, it’s a He and he is a deer.”
He listened to your story. So you didn’t know how to swim, he would have to train you. You shouldn’t have so many weaknesses, it was dangerous. But then you started talking about how your deer plushie was protecting you. What were you saying, were you so tired that thinking was too difficult for you?
“ So, a deer saved your life from drowning…”
“ Yes, so my parents bought me this deer plushie so now, when I'm scared I can just squeeze him and feel safe!” you demonstrated your words by squeezing your plushie against you. “ Do you want to try it?” 
Did he want to try to squeeze a plushie? Not really. Not at all.
“ How can he protect you?”
You rolled your eyes at him before pushing your plushie in his arms. You forced him to hug it, once you were satisfied, you nodded and looked at Alastor who was clearly confused. “ Now, squeeze him !” 
Once again , you were looking at him with those eyes he couldn’t refuse anything. He suppressed a sigh and squeezed the deer against him and closed his eyes. It has your scent. He could feel himself relax. Yeah… It felt nice. If he were to hug you like this, would you also be this soft?  He was getting taller than you, have you noticed it? Maybe one day, he would be able to hug you just like this plushie? Would you feel safe in his arms? Or would you try to run away?
“ Mister Deer could be our very first guest in our radio show?”
Our.
He opened his eyes, staring right in your soul. Ah, you were panicking. Did you think he didn’t like that you use “ our” instead of “ his” ? You were so cute! 
“ I’d like that.” he whispered with a soft smile. “ Our first guest.”
You both laid on his bed, he still held the plushie against him. He really needed to find him a name, names are important. He listened to you blablating about how he was supposed to take care of the deer. It looked like a fawn for him but whatever.
“ Now that I have Mister Deer, who will protect you?” he asked, with no trace of fatigue on his face, he was used to not sleeping, because of nightmares or just because he needed to be aware of what his father’s doing in the house. You smiled tiredly at him, putting your head on his pillow.
“ Well, because you hold Mister Deer, it’s your job to protect me now.” 
It was his job to protect you..? He would do it. He would protect your smile, he would protect your dazzling eyes that seemed to never lose their sparkes.
“ … So, do I need to hug you?”
“ M-maybe but…Do you want to …?”
Does he want to?
He covered your eyes with his hand. Within the next five minutes you were asleep, he took off his hand and stared at your face.
 Did he want to hug you? 
He looked at the fawn in his arms. You were cuter than your plushie, so that made you huggable. He touched your cheeks with his finger but you didn’t move. He nudged you with his feet but you stayed asleep. You must be feeling very safe to sleep like this. He would awake at any noise in the house. 
Did he want to hug you? 
He wasn’t touching you but he could feel your body warm from here. Were you too hot? Did he need to take off the blanket ? But maybe you liked being warm? You were so problematic, did you know that? He stared at the ceiling, he knew he wasn’t going to fall asleep soon… 
Did he want to hug you?
He put the fawn between his body and yours, whispering in your ear. He hoped you would stay asleep, he didn’t want anyone to witness what he was going to say.
Did he want to hug you?
“ Yes, if you hug me back.”
—-----
He was blushing as his Mother was asking him if he slept well. She had a teasing glint in her eyes, she must have seen! When he woke up, he had you in his arms. He quietly left the bed, leaving the fawn with you. 
“ Alastor, this  was a very cute scene!” 
He didn’t care if this was cute, it was embarrassing ! He hid his face in his Mother dress. Could she just forget about it? 
“ Don’t worry, I won’t tell a soul.” she kissed the top of his head with a beaming smile. He smiled at her, his mother seemed happier since she found your mother back.  He liked it. He decided to go back to his room to see if you awakened but what was surprising was that he saw you with his microphone, talking with the fawn. How could the fawn protect you, it looked like you were the one protecting it with the way you were holding it against you. You were so strange.
“ I knew you would play with it.” you blinked at him. He looked at your bed hair and couldn’t help but smile. You looked silly like this ! “ Eamon told me you were using the microphone.” You tilted your head.
“ Who ?”
“ Our deer. He needs a name, don’t you think?” he stroked your plushie’s head while mumbling “ even if he looks more like a fawn than a deer…” 
“ He is a deer ! I’m sure you never saw one !” you huffed as you squeezed Eamon against your chest. 
“ Actually, I did when Father took me hunting.” he tilted his head as he saw your horrified face. Why did you take a step back?
“ You killed a deer ?”
“ No, I saw one. And most of them have brown fur, not like ours who have a white one.”  Why did you seem so confused?
“ But…  Why is your father taking you with him.. to hunt..?” you asked, confused.
To kill of course. 
But he couldn’t tell you that. His father wanted him to be a man, and man went hunting.  His father showed him how to kill while threatening him.
If you don’t want to end up like this, shut your trap.
When he first went hunting , he was terrified but now, he would just stare at the dead animal wondering if he will be the target next time. So far, he was alive. How lucky ! But once again, he couldn’t tell you that, could he? Would you be worried for him? 
“ It’s not for little girls, that’s for sure. You wouldn’t bear it.” He teased you.
“ Hey! I saw things too, I’m not a little girl!”
Did you? Were you like him? Did you see things that made you reconsider your morals? Did you see things that made you throw up? Did you see things that made you want to run away and never look back. Did you–
“ My father tried to eat my mother one day.”
Now, that was horrifying.
—--
You went downstairs to eat breakfast as he went to the bathroom to wash up. He stared at his body. The bruises were no longer on his body, that was nice. He went to the kitchen and sat next to you. Strange, you were looking at him like you knew something that he didn’t. Did his Mother tell you what happened ? No, she wouldn’t. So why–
“ Next time, we should have a sleepover at my house ! I could show you my room !” you smiled excitedly.
He tensed. He would love to go to your place, being able to see your house. How did you decorate your room? But he couldn’t leave his Mother alone with his Father. What if he decided to come back drunk and beat his mother while he was enjoying himself, free of worries, at your place. No, he couldn’t. He looked at you and there was the kicked puppy stare… 
“ I… I don’t like leaving my mother alone at home.”
“ But we will choose a day where your father is home!” you nudged him, trying to coat him to come with you at your house. “ Please Alastor… I really want you to come.” you pleaded as you held his forearms with your small hands. “ You don’t want to..?”
I want to.
He bit his lips, he wanted but he couldn’t. Wasn’t it the meaning of his life? Wanting without having the power to be able to do what he wanted. Fortunately, his Mother had sensed his discomfort and she offered to come with him for your next sleepover.
He relaxed. Yes, like this, it would be perfect.
The day went on as you both “gossiped” as his Mother called it. But unfortunately, it was time for you to leave. You asked Eamon to take care of him and then you asked him to take care of Eamon.  You were cute but as asked, he would take care of your Fawn.
—-------
He was in the forest with his Father, holding a rifle. It was a familiar feeling to hold the weapon in his little hand. He was used to it now. He was walking, alongside his father who was making so much noise, how could they hunt like this?
“ Here, be a useful brat, shoot it.”
He shot the partridges which fell down near him. Should he be afraid of himself ? He couldn’t feel anything as he watched the life leaving the animal’s eyes. It was almost boring, he was stronger so he won. It was that easy.
Would you be scared of him?
 He stopped himself. You were the first real friend he has ever made. If you were to see him like this, would you be afraid of him? Would you let him explain? He turned his head toward his father as the man pointed to a deer not too far. He could shoot it. It would be easy.
But then he saw your face. He knew this deer wasn’t the one who saved you but this time, for you, he would not kill it. He knew you wouldn’t forgive him.
“Alastor, shoot it..!” 
He just stared at the beautiful beast not too far from him. He stared into its eyes as the animal saw him before running off. How he envied the animal right now…
He heard his Father before feeling the punch in his face.
Ah, today it was going to be harder than usual.
“ You brat!” 
A kick in his stomach.
He wondered if you were sleeping right now? You always fell asleep so easily, he was almost envious. Maybe next time, he’ll ask you how you manage to find the sweet relief of falling asleep.
“ How useless!” 
Another kick in his stomach.
Ah, his Mother was going to be so sad once she saw him. Maybe his Father would let him wash himself up in the water? 
“ You nigga !”
Aand there it was. That disgusting word. He felt his Father grabbed a fistful of his hair and dragged him toward their home. His Father threw him inside his bedroom, Alastor’s head hitting the wall. 
Seemed like his mother was out buying groceries. Good, she wouldn’t have to see that. He stared at his Father, smiling. The man took off his belt and began to hit him on his back, forcing him to lay on his belly. Alastor stared in front of him and saw Eamon, staring back at him. He didn’t know why, but he moved. He stood up as his Father shouted at him to stay in his place. He took the plushie against him, keeping his back toward his Father but he stayed standing. 
His father hit him on his back with his belt once again but Alastor didn’t fall on the ground. He crushed the plushie against him as he closed his eyes. 
It was going to be over soon. He would see you this weekend, you would play together, you would show him your neighbourhood, you would give him something sweet to eat.
He opened his eyes and saw with sadness that Eamond was dirty with his own blood. He touched his nose, oh yes, his father did punch him in the forest. Aah, he needed to clean it before you came back.
His back felt wet and stinky. Was he sweating that much? Normally he could handle it better? He sniffed.
Ah, blood.
He didn’t remember when he passed out but when he woke up, Eamon was still in his arms.
“ ça va aller mon bébé, regarde Maman.” 
He looked at his Mother, her smile wobbling. He just closed his eyes and squeezed Eamon, the plushie didn’t have your scent anymore, but it has his blood’s. 
—---
He didn’t know why, but each week his Father would hit him with his belt on his torso or back even when his Mother was begging for him to stop. He had to go to school with bandages all over his body but his face. But he never cried, nor asked his Father to stop. He would just think that soon, you would come and the Hell he was living would come to a pause. Each time, he was thinking.
Next week.
But you never came. 
It’s been almost a month. Did something happen to you? Were you sick? Maybe he could ask his Mother to see if you were okay? He was on his bed, clinging to Eamon, his back was hurting so much he almost wanted to bite off his hand from the pain.
But no, he just stared in the void, losing his smile. And then, a thought struck him.  
Was killing a human any different than an animal?
His eyes widened, but before he could deepen his thoughts on the subject, he heard footsteps downstairs. Yours footsteps. It was you. He was sure of it. He heard the door smashed open, well, weren’t you full of energy today?
“ So unladylike. I could recognize your footsteps anywhere.”
He frowned when he didn’t hear any witty come back from you. Well? 
“ I.. I made your favorite dish..” you whispered, your voice trembling with each word as you tried to speak out loud.Why did you sound like that? “ Can… Can I see you?”
You wanted to see his pathetic self right now? You really had a bad timing, you’ll have to work on it, really.
“ No.”
“ Please…” you begged, it sounded like you were crying, why were you crying?. “ I was so worried… My father told me what happened–” 
“ What did he tell you?” His voice was colder than usual. He didn’t want you to know. He didn’t want anyone to know.
“ That… That you went hunting with your dad and–” you approached the bed and flinched when you felt his hand covering your eyes. So you were crying, he thought. He could feel your tears wetting the palms of his hands. “ Because of your father you- you have been hurt.” you cried, holding his wrist with one of your hands. “Alastor, I was so scared..!”
Me too, I was so scared.
“ Keep your eyes closed.”
He couldn't help himself. He hugged you. You were finally here. Hell was over for some time.  He wanted to see you so bad. He wanted to see you…
“Yes, I wanted to see you.”
“ Are you hurting?”
“ No. Remember Rules number two: I’m the strongest here.”
He smiled as he heard you laugh. Yes, everything would turn out nicely. He just had to be more careful. To be more observant. He would be the strongest for you. You’ll never have to worry for him to the point of crying. Nobody would keep your friendship from you. He sighed in relief, you were here…
“ I want to see your face.”
Mhn.. Well, as long as it is just his face. He stepped back and smiled at you. You didn’t have to worry.
“ Be my guest.”
 His smile widened when he saw your confused face. You must have thought he would have injuries on his face heh? 
“ You said you wanted to see my face, not my injuries.” he smiled cunningly at you while holding Eamon against his chest. 
“ Why do our deer have pink…red spots on him?” you tilted your head, stroking its fur.
Ah, right. His Mother had tried but she couldn’t wash all the blood he had lost on the fawn each week. Were you going to be upset ? He didn’t protect your fawn even though he told you he would take care of it. Were you going to be disappointed in him?
“ I’m sorry. I bled on him.”
He watched as you sat next to him and gently kissed his cheeks, resting your lips against his skin. Did you know it was the spot his father had punched weeks prior ? Of course, you wouldn’t know. He only could feel your lips, the pain in his back wasn’t there anymore. He squeezed your hand. He missed you… He missed this…
“ I missed you.” you both said.
He smiled softly, as you began to explain all the week he has missed. He felt his heart soared when you explained how you had made a scene so you could come and see him. He had to tease you, because if not, he felt like he would explode with happiness. You have missed him, his presence was something you wanted, he was important for you.
Unfortunately, you had to go.
Well, Hell is forever, right?
He went downstairs, keeping his hand around yours. You seemed so worried. He looked at you after your mother asked about his well being. Why were you so quiet ? 
“ I promise, I’ll see you soon.”
“ You promise? How do I know if you are going to be sick, or injured once again?”
Oh that’s why.
You were so cute. Unfortunately, he couldn’t promise to never be injured again, he would be breaking his promise tonight. What kind of promise could he conjure that would make you both ties to each other forever.
“ Let’s make a deal.”
He approached his face close to yours and kissed your forehead. You blushed and he couldn’t feel bad about it, red suited you.
“ You always kiss me good morning, so now, I’ll kiss you goodbye. Now, you owe me a good morning kiss.” he smiled at you teasingly as he took a step back. “ Do we have a deal?”
Please, say yes.
“ Deal.”
He smiled, now he knew that even though he would suffer because of his father, you would always come back to him, healing him without being aware of it. You were his special.. Something. You were the one painting a true smile on his lips. You were his special person.
Tag List: lukneetoonz @martinys-world @littlepoetnova @sirens-and-moonflowers @eris-norwega @tiredflame132 @mo-0-o @vvollerie @boogiemansbitch @sodavizz @tessemerick @slytherin4ever
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pharawee · 2 days
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Just some random thoughts on yesterday's Pit Babe 2 announcement because I keep seeing some theories floating around (really interesting theories, mind you!) on how Way and Tony could or couldn't still be alive and...
Apart from the fact that this is Thai drama and they don't really need a reason to still be alive beyond the fact that (much like Emperor Palpatine) somehow they've returned, the show itself has also given us plenty of possible canon reasons for what could have happened if we take the announcement trailer at face value:
That drug Babe's father used on Charlie could also have been used on Way.
Everyone was far too upset and distracted to check if Way was really dead. They didn't even administer first aid. For all we know Way could have felt like going for a walk five minutes after everyone left.
Fancy enigma powers (it's over for all of us if he ever learns to do mass-hypnosis).
Way has returned as Way the White.
As for Tony, he's rich and evil and eternally scheming so he totally could have planned for this. I could even see him using Kenta as part of his contigency plan - and playing dead is the perfect sleight of hand. If you want to get really dark, I don't think Kenta would have been in any position to refuse if Tony had roped him into at least somewhat taking the fall for him (granted, he did look surprised by whoever got them all out of prison but it could have been surprise at Tony actually returning for him). It would even add to that penultimate scene of him accepting his role as Tony's dog. One very satisfying stabbing indident doesn't really change the fact that, dead or alive, Tony will always have some degree of influence over him - especially if there's no one left to give him guidance (and Lord knows Dean and Winner can't even find their way out of a clown car).
Besides, neither Pete nor X-Hunter (seemingly) standing up for him (and that after they all gave him so much encouragement in season 1) and leaving him to rot in prison with Winner and Dean (I'm kind of taking that personally) actually somewhat confirms his skewed worldview of Tony being an inescapable reality.
And much like Kenta himself, I'm also still not over PeteKenta so I wonder how and if that will factor into everything - especially since with Way (presumably) still alive Pete again has the choice between two poor little meow-meows who are (un?)willingly trapped on the wrong side of things. Because he will try to save them both. It's just who he is (but yes, I'm also here for PeteWay so I don't mind either way; all I know is that the angst will be delicious).
I'm also just really excited for the baddie squad in general. We have Dean who's pragmatic and ambitious (and looking really good while doing his evil little thing), Winner who's making squeaky clown shoe noises wherever he goes (I know this and I love him) and Kenta who's tragically stuck with both of them. Those are some A+++ dynamics and I already love this team-up so much. I'd watch a whole series with just these three.
Then there's the possibility of the whole announcement trailer being one big sleight of hand and maybe KentaDeanWinner (don't mind if I do) aren't evil at all but more of a Suicide Squad kind of thing (again, would watch). They could be working for Pete (and the thought of Pete possibly having read Winner's mind and still deciding to hire him is incredibly funny to me).
Anyway, I want everyone to be still alive because imagine the shenanigans! The absolute high jinks! The angst! The possibilities are endless!!
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quitealotofsodapop · 5 hours
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So if Wukong didn't know MK was playing superhero, why was he able to be caught by Spider Queen? The answer is clear. He took the younger cubs down to see the parade. That way, he could be closer to the fireworks, and his kids are entertained. He ended up being caught up in the initial attack and discovered MK playing hero while trying to evacuate the cubs away from the angry spider lady trying to turn people into spider zombies.
Wukong is not happy, but at this point there are far more important things to deal with. He orders MK to get his siblings somewhere safe while he handles Spider Queen. When MK protests, he tells him that MK's arachnophobia would only get in the way, and he is still Sun Wukong, the gods be damned Great Sage Equal To Heaven and the Monkey King. He isn't so far into his retirement that he can't put an upstart little princess in her place.
The plan backfires and Wukong gets captured by LBD and Spider Queen, of course, but hey, the Noodle Crew gets to meet MK's siblings! Sandy babysits them while they're in Heaven trying to get the stuff. All they know of it is that MK's mom was caught by the Spider Queen, they don't know yet exactly who his parent is. Not until much later when Wukong and DBK break out of their bonds and save them.
"Holy shit, is that Sun Wukong!?" ;Probably Tang
"Mom!" :MK
"MOM!?" :Literally eveyone
After all is said and dine Wukong makes good on his promise of a long talk, or rather lecture, and MK is grounded.
"I CANNOT BELIEVE YOU WOULD BE SO RECKLESS! Xiaotian, your father an I taught you better than this! What were you thinking!?"
"But when you were my age you were at war with Heaven, though!"
"And look what that got me! Thrown in a furnace and pinned under a mountain for 500 years! What you did was stupid and reckless. What if you'd gotten hurt!? Your still mortal, MK!"
Referencing.
Yesss. Wukong canonically adores New Years, and I def agree that love extends to the cubs too.
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Wukong does a "surprise" visit to Megapolis to show the younger cubs the New Years Parade + check up on his eldest while MK is helping Pigsy with the foodtruck. Likely all in glamours, but MK 100% gets an embarassing visit from his mom at work. The Noodle shop gang tease him endlessly about it.
Then cue the Spider Queen's invasion, and Wukong giving MK the cubs to watch for the moment while he Kings Up. MK doesn't want his mom to go in his condition, but Wukong is still The Monkey King, and has no idea that his son has been superhero-ing for the past couple of months.
The gang all meet up on Sandy's airship, and the kiddos glamours all drop from stress. This is where the gang confirms (they had suspiscions) that MK is a disguised demon - they dont mind since thats sadly common in human-dominated cities. MK specifically being a monkey demon gets Tang asking questions though.
Red Son shows up and has a brain-fart mid-plan when he recognises who "Noodle Boy" actually is;
Red Son: "Xiaotian!? I haven't seen you since we were calves! This explains so much!"
MK, nervous sweating: "Not now dude! My mom got captured by the Spider Queen, and my dad is MIA right now."
Red Son: "Ah but of course. Seems we have the same predicament then. No fear, I have a plan to defeat the Spider Queen and save our respective parents."
Tang, panic-nerding: "MK, how do you know Red Son!?"
MK, flash of SWK-esque anger: "NOT NOW."
The gang get to the Celestial Realm and retrieve what they need to make the antidote - though not without attracting the attention of a certain hound that just realised her fave monkey is here.
MK, petting the dog: "I'm sorry Quan. I can't play right now! I'm saving the city."
Xiaotian Quan: (*sad whine!*)
Meanwhile at the Spider Mech; DBK has finally met his little brother/enemy once again. DBK in his anger, yells about Sun Wukong's "little-thief successor MK" ruining so many of his family's attempts at gaining power, and Wukong just blanks;
Wukong, scary parent voice: "Xiaotian has been doing what!?"
DBK: "The Little Thief is Xiaotian!?"
DBK would also shout at Wukong for putting himself in danger in his condition, but quiets when he learns that Macaque is missing. Tieshan had seemed worried since DBK got back (infact, maybe its why she decided to free him), and everyone knows that the shadow monkey wouldn't leave his mate without reason. When LBD arrives, DBK and Wukong immediate get a chill up their spines. They both know that she's somehow involved with Mac's disappearance... DBK has his super-saiyan moment of worried-anger and frees both himself and his xiandi so that they can find their reckless kids.
The Noodle Shop gang (+ Red Son and the cubs) bust on through with the spider-venom antidote and manage to subdue the Spider Queen with their combined forces.
Tang is about to fanboy at the sight of Sun Wukong in the flesh when MK and the cubs yell something that shatters his preconceptions.
MK & the cubs: "Mom!" "Mama!"
Noodle Shop Gang: "MOM?!?"
Wukong, swarmed by baby monkeys: "Thank Nuwa you're all ok!" (*hugs them all tight*)
Wukong: (*suddenly bonks MK on head with a sandal*)
Wukong: "And you! How dare you not tell me that you've been fighting demons this whole time! You told me you were only getting a job for mortal experience!"
MK: "But mom! I did get a job! I've been using my spare time trying to figure out what happened to dad!"
Wukong: "Which I specifically told you Not to do!! Your father has gotten himself tangled up with a very dangerous witch and I'm not letting you run into one of her traps!"
Noddle Shop Gang + DB fam: (*standing at a safe distance from the yelling*)
Tang, dizzy with excitement: "Anyone else feel like they're in a fantasy right now?"
Mei: "Hm, not really. I knew Xiaotian since we were pups. My grunkle Ao Lie is the same dragon-horse from the stories."
Tang: "Excuse me!?"
Erlang shows up on Earth asking Wukong tf just happened - his third eye showed him the chaos in the Celestial Realm and Lao Tzu is pissed for his missing pills and Furnace. But he immediately leaves when he sees tje carnage of a saved mortal city + Sun Wukong. (Erlang: "Ah. Say no more.")
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dangerpronebuddie · 7 hours
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Okay, I hate this
I hate this I hate this I hate this
We just had an episode that implied Eddie didn't know he could say no to the possibility of sex with Marisol. It was also implied that option didn't occur to Buck either.
And now there's a speculation that Buck and Eddie are not just letting loose and having fun... but are drugged and out of their minds.
Eddie getting his shirt ripped off because he's finally breaking out of the box he's been confining himself to? Beautiful and poetic and I love it.
Eddie getting his shirt ripped off because he's been drugged? No fucking thank you!!!!
But it's possible and that pisses me off.
(Whump is always fun. But in canon, with two characters who don't know they can say no and one who's been assaulted before, it's not good!!! This show is fantastic about handling serious issues and heavy conversations. Consent? Not so much).
Unfortunately, since there's possibilities surrounding consent right now, I have a theory or two.
If they're really copy pasting BT onto Eddie and Marisol, then they could possibly do the 5x11 thing and Eddie is going to kiss someone. Drunk. (Or drugged, depending on that spec). Consent? Don't know her.
But if they do, it could shatter the box he's been in, and himself. I hate the idea that Eddie always has to completely break to be able to heal, but he doesn't know any other way to be. Ryan hinted at the possibility of Eddie breaking again. So what makes it happen, what does he learn from it, and how does Marisol factor in?
If they do the BT parallel and he kisses someone, consensual or not, he's going to feel incredibly guilty about it. He's failed as a boyfriend (and knowing him, he'll twist it around as failing as a father too) and the box will break again.
The next few episode titles even lean into the guilt of it all. Ghost of a Second Chance, Step Nine, even Unfinished Business is ominous enough to suggest the storyline is involved there too.
With the writers for 7x08 being Juan Carlos Coto and Bradley Marques, and Coto being who wrote the breakdown, I wouldn't be surprised in the very least if something happened that episode. It doesn't need to be a breakdown again, but it can be this cathartic experience where Eddie finally lets go of the guilt he's been carrying for decades.
The title for 7x08 has been on my mind since we found out about it. Step Nine in AA is about making amends, no matter what. It's going to be a Bobby centric episode, no doubt, but Juan Carlos Coto usually writes episodes that are big for both Bobby and buddie (2x06, 3x09, 4x05, 5x13, 5x16, 6x10 to name just a few). Add in the fact Bradley Marques is writing it with him, the guy who's only done episode 100 so far, is... Interesting!
Bobby is likely making amends with Amir. Eddie has to make amends with himself. If we get a realization or a coming out that episode? I will pass out.
They're setting it up to be a brilliant queer storyline for Eddie. I would HATE for it to be tainted by drugs and a lack of consent and another cheating storyline.
And if they don't go the drug route (yay!), then an almost between Buck and Eddie would most likely be enough to make Eddie feel guilty about it and then have to face it and realize he has nothing to feel guilty about at all. Nothing happened. He just realized he wants it to happen, and for a moment it felt like Buck did too. It would push him to either hide with Marisol or drop her and be free. And since he's grown and recognized that he moved too fast asking her to move in, it's possible he breaks up with her instead of becoming more serious.
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me thinking it’s good that claudia is not played by a child since child actors is a very tricky area vs me thinking about how the storyline won’t be as impactful when claudia is portrayed by an actress who is 18; fight
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nanaslutt · 4 months
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HATE SEX WITH GETO PLEASE 😭😭🙏🏾🙏🏾🙏🏾
contains: fem reader, spanking, choking, manhandling, hate fucking, rough sex, dirty talk, cheating, spanking, bathroom sex, angst w/ no comfort, proceed with caution :3
°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:・°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:・°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:・°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:・°❀⋆.ೃ
Just thinking about hate sex with ex-boyfriend Geto. You received a video from an unknown number a couple months ago of your boyfriend at the club, big arms slung around two pretty girls as one ground on him under the flashing lights and blaring music of the club. The video was short, but it was all you needed to see. You forwarded the video to Geto, captioned with the words, "fuck you."
The night he went out he told you he was having a guy's night out with Gojo, so imagine your surprise when you woke up to him acting like a whore in public. You still did never find out who sent you that video. Geto spent days blowing up your phone, using your mutual friends to try and talk to you, even going as far to show up to your house, but you rejected all of his advances.
After about a month and a half, when things had calmed down and it was evident to the both of you that your relationship was well over, you finally started going out again. The reason it took you so long? The two of you were in the same friend group. There's a reason they say to date outside of your circle, for situations exactly like this.
Your big debut back into your circle of friends was a night out clubbing. Gojo, Shoko, Utahime, and Nanami were sitting on the plush cushions around you. The only reason you agreed to go out with them tonight was because Shoko had promised Geto wouldn't be there, saying he was stuck at work. Truthfully though, Shoko had missed you so much in the group outings, that she would've found a way to drag you out of the house even if Geto was going to be there.
"This is nice, I'll admit. I missed you guys." You said, working on your second cocktail of the night. Drinks always tasted better when Gojo paid. "Awww~ I don't know how you went so long without seeing me, honestly~" Gojo teased, ruffling your hair in the process. You swatted his hand away, fixing your hair while you shot him a nasty side-eye. "Us, he meant US." Utahime corrected, placing her hand on your knee while also shooting daggers at Gojo.
Gojo stuck out his tongue at Utahime, crossing his legs as he leaned back into the cushions, his arms spreading out behind you and Nanami on the top of the couch. "It's true though, it's nice having you here," Nanami added a light blush dusting on his face from how many drinks he had already downed; he must not have work tomorrow. "Thank you Nanami." you smiled at him before leaning back, crossing your legs over one another, your short black dress riding up your thighs slightly in the process.
"I've been so pent up all month, this feels so good." You giggled, tipping your head over as you directed your words to the girls. "Yeah? I know how you can feel even better." Shoko smirked, sipping on her straight vodka. Utahime smiled giddily, leaning her body forward in interest as she also waited for Shoko to speak. "Blondie over there at the bar has been eyeing you up since we got here, go talk to him." She nudged, wiggling her eyebrows at you.
You have been wound up in more ways than one since you and Geto had broken up. He always dicked you down so good, you would miss that. Who knows though, maybe blondie with the nice jawline and pretty face would give you good pipe in the bathroom. You eye him up, biting your lip as you dragged your eyes over his sturdy frame, only noticing he had been watching you oogle him like a slab of meat the whole time when you went to rake your eyes over his handsome face. He smiled, his dimples showing themselves as they dug into his cheeks, fuck he was hot. This was the perfect guy to use to get over Geto, screw that cheater.
"Oh shitt~ Look at them eye fucking each other~ Haha!" Gojo laughed, sipping on his sweet, non-alcoholic, bright pink drink. You turned your head to smirk at Gojo before you placed your hand on his shoulder and used it to push yourself off the seat. "You're really going for it?" Shoko asked incredulously, giggling behind your hand as you smoothed out your dress. "Why not? I'm horny and single, and a hot man is looking at me like I'm the hottest woman he's ever laid eyes on." You said, smiling down at your friends.
"That's because you are," Shoko added, grabbing your thigh for leverage she spun you around to face the man behind you sitting on the barstools, waiting for you to approach him. "I would be jealous If I liked men, he's a cutie." She laughed to Utahime as she watched you take a deep breath and walk off toward the man.
You walked through the club with confidence, a heartbeat already forming behind your panties as you got closer and closer, watching the way he eyed up your body as you walked. "Friends talked some sense into you, huh?" The man spoke when you got within ear shot. You took the seat next to him, plopping down on the barstool you spun the seat around to face him, your legs slotting together with one another as you placed your heel-clad feet on the bottom of his barstool.
His eyes darted down to your legs, watching you insert yourself into his space with confidence. "Too shy to come up to me yourself?" You asked, placing your hand on his knee as you rubbed circles against his pants, making him swallow the lump in his throat, feeling the heat rise to his face with how bold you were being. "You kidding? Those guys you're with are fucking repellent. Didn't know if you were with one of them or not." He laughed, taking a sip of his drink to ease his nerves.
"But you were watching me anyways?" You teased, keeping your eyes locked onto his. He took in a deep breath, pressing his lips together as before he spoke. "You have no idea what you look like, huh?" He asked, narrowing his eyes at you. "Who wouldn't be able to resist looking at someone like you?" His words sent shivers down your spine, you needed to get him in a bathroom stall with you hours ago. As the two of you continued flirting with one another, eyefucking each other as you sipped on your respective drinks, someone unexpected entered the club.
"Heyy." Geto's voice echoed into your friend's ears. The dark-haired man was half up, half down in his signature bun, one hand tucked into his pocket while his other was held up in front of him, waving to his friends. "Hey troublemaker~" Gojo smiled largely. Shoko groaned along with Utahime. "Thought you couldn't make it?" Nanami asked as he slid in next to him on the couch, spreading his long legs out on the cushions as he took Nanami's drink from him, taking a gulp.
"Got off early, thought I might come by." He responded, laughing when a drunk Nanami snatched his drink back from Geto, muttering to order his own drink. "Come by my ass, you work on the other side of town." Shoko laughed incredulously, adding that you were not going to be very happy. "She's here?" Geto asked, his demeanor immediately perking up. Shoko looked to Utahime knowingly before she looked back to Geto, hissing air in through her teeth.
"Yes cheater~ Of course she's here, and she's about to score by the looks of it." Shoko laughed, making Gojo whistle as he dragged his gaze to you, watching you pull your head back from the whispering something in the mans ear before his lips moved, head moving in tandem as you slid off of the barstool, taking his larger hand in his as you dragged him away from the seat, making him place his drink down on the bar top, abandoning it as you dragged him away to the bathroom.
Geto had just watched the entire scene unfold in front of him that the rest of them had seen. Of course, Geto had come here for you. Shoko was right, he worked almost half an hour away from the club, he was exhausted from work but when he saw you say in the group chat you were going to be here, he knew he had to make a detour. He knew he fucked up when he lied to you about going to the club, but truthfully he had done nothing more than let a couple girls fawn over him, grinding on him while they peppered kisses on his cheeks, never coming close to his mouth.
He still loved you, of course, he did, but you had been adamant about not seeing him at all for almost two months. He hadn't really given up, he would never give up on trying to get you back, he just figured maybe a little break and letting you calm down would lead you back to him. Clearly, he was wrong as he watched you maneuver your way through the crowd, dragging some man you met five minutes prior away to fuck, looking good as all hell.
He grits his teeth, pressing his feet firmly on the floor Geto was on the move in a heartbeat, no one could stop him. "Oh look what you did." Nanami huffed, looking at Shoko. "She's gonna be fucking pissed you know." Shoko's jaw was on the floor. She severely underestimated the amount of balls Suguru Geto had. "How the fuck was I supposed to know he was gonna go chase after her???" She said, looking at him with an expression that almost resembled horror, making Gojo laugh his ass off between them.
Once you made it to the secluded corner of the club just outside the bathrooms, you spun your body around, wrapping your arms around the man. "You wanna fuck me?" You whispered into his ear, feeling his large hands wrap around your waist, his knee sliding between your legs. He groaned at your words, staring between your lips and your pretty eyes as you bit your lip at him, "Fuck yeah, pretty girl." He smiled, shaking his head as he leaned in for a kiss.
You closed your eyes, waiting for a sensation against your lips that never came. Your eyes shot open when he yelled out an exasperated "Hey! What the fuck!" His lips loosened on your waist as he was dragged away from you by a strong grip on his hair. "Geto?!" You yelled, spinning your body to look at him, your body heating up with rage combined with the neglect of pleasure. "Who the fuck are you?!" The blond-haired man yelled, trying to grip Geto's wrist to make him release the hold he had on his hair.
"Her boyfriend." He deadpanned, throwing him in the direction of the club as he reached his hand over your head, pushing the door open behind you, forcing you into the small bathroom with his large frame, leaving you no time to refute. "I didn't know man, fuck!" The man's voice was cut off as the bathroom door shut behind the two of you, Geto's hand coming down to lock the door, leaving you alone in the personal bathroom.
"What the fuck are you doing?" You asked, shoving his chest back, Geto not even moving a muscle as his jaw muscles bulged out under the weight of his clenching teeth, his dark eyes watching you fume. "What the fuck were you doing?" Geto responded, walking toward you slowly, making you step back unconsciously, trying to keep some distance between the two of you. "Why is that any of your fucking business?" You spat, almost laughing at his audacity.
"We never officially broke up." Geto retorted, clenching his fists by his sides. "Oh! Oho!" You laughed, "Excuse me, allow me to make it official for you, we are fucking done." You dug your nail into his chest, squinting your eyes as you looked into his, your tall heels making you feel more confident as your height difference wasn't as dramatic now. "Thought I made it pretty fucking clear when I didn't respond to you for almost two months, but you always were pretty dense." You huffed, backing away from him once you got your point across.
"Were you just trying to get even with me? Huh? Thought fucking some random guy in the club like a slut would make you feel better about yourself?" He yelled, continuing to walk toward you until your back hit the wall, making you jolt, you hadn't even realized you were walking backward. "The fuck did you call me?" You asked, scrunching your eyebrows together. "You're such a fucking hypocrite, acting like that wasn't exactly what you did to me." You laughed again. You felt like you were going crazy, why was he acting like you were the one in the wrong here?
"I never fucked them! Never! Maybe if you answered my fucking calls or looked at my texts you would know that!" He shouted, getting in your face. You shook your head, looking at him with disdain. "Oh, because letting girls dry hump you is so much fucking better, right?" You yelled back, the ghost of a smile gracing your features, you were so done with him.
"God you really are the worst." You spat, your eyes shooting daggers into his own. "How the fuck are you gonna make up for scaring that guy off, huh?" You asked, tilting your head at him, making his eyes lock onto yours once more. Geto cocked his head at you, clearly uncomfortable with you mentioning the blonde stranger, knowing damn well you meant you were going to fuck him, and now you were left dry.
You scoffed, "What? Don't like the thought of me getting off on someone else's cock? Moaning someone else's name? Huh? That shit make you mad?" You got in his face, keeping your squinted eyes on his dark ones. Geto doesn't know what came over him, but he couldn't stand to hear you talk anymore. His lips were on yours, swallowing your surprised moans, immediately slipping his tongue into your mouth, crushing his jaw into yours, your head bumping into the wall behind you.
You were still mad as hell, but his lips felt so familiar, your arousal crept up through the cracks of your irritation and made you kiss him back harder, fighting him for dominance. His hand came to grab your throat, squeezing harshly, his fingers digging into your delicate skin, making you whine into the kiss. He was never this rough with you, and you were loving it.
He pulled back, his free hand coming down to undo his belt quickly, pulling the leather through the loops as he threw it somewhere on the floor of the filthy bathroom floor, "Don't you ever talk about someone else fucking you in front of me." He growled, squeezing your throat to emphasize his words, You smiled through the lack of oxygen, little black dots clouding your vision, but you still felt the need to fight back. "Fuck you." You whispered.
Geto spun you around in one swift movement, making you face the wall, your hands coming to brace against the brick as you felt him lift your skirt over the curve of your ass, your panties being roughly yanked down midway on your thighs. Everything was happening so quickly, the adrenaline pumping through your veins only fueling your arousal. You knew this was not a good idea, but your body was too weak to Geto.
Geto shook his head as his eyes came into contact with your dripping pussy. He bit his lip between his teeth, pulling his cock out through his pants as he gave himself a couple rough strokes, his hand sliding down to your ass as he rubbed his thumb through your folds, spreading them and rubbing your wetness around before he dipped the digit into your hole, slowly pumping in and out. He was absolutely fuming at the thought of you giving this to someone else, he wondered if you had in the time you haven't been talking.
"You this wet from that fucking loser, or from me yelling at you?" Geto asked, pulling his thumb back to leave a rough smirk on your ass, pushing his hips forward as he rubbed his tip along your folds, getting his cock slick with your juices. "You're so full of yourself, shoulda seen the way he was touching me under the table." You giggled, turning your head to the side to look at him. You kept your words vague on purpose to piss Geto off. He had been touching you under the table, but only your thigh.
"You fucking slut." Geto grit through his teeth, his hand coming to grip the back of your neck, his fingers pinching your skin with how hard he was gripping you. "And you still wanna fuck me." You laughed, the noise getting cut short when he pushed his cock into you all at once with zero warning, keeping his balls pressed to your ass as he let his cock throb inside your walls still, his back pressing agaisnt your chest as he leaned into your ear, his deep voice whispering, "That's enough out of you." His voice alone was enough to send shivers down your spine.
"Fuck!" you yelled when he pulled his hips back before he bullied his cock back into your unprepped walls, stretching you open as he meanly fucked you against the wall. "Shit- Think he could fuck you better than me? Huh?" Geto asked, leaning back as he pressed the back of your neck into the wall, his other hand holding under your hip as he held you in an arch, the pace of his hips making your knees squeeze together, bending slightly at the stimulation.
You brought one of your hands down between your thighs to rub little circles into your clit, your eyes crossing at the feeling. Geto must have felt how tight you got because he groaned through his teeth, his hand leaving your hip for a moment to come down to leave a harsh smack on your ass. "Fuck- I don't know, heh- If you didn't interrupt me I w-would've found out. He shook his head, smiling through the malice he felt coursing through his veins. "You're such a fucking brat." Smack, "Just sayin' that shit to get me worked up so I'll fuck you like the whore you are."
You wanted to hit him back every time he slapped your ass. Sure, it felt good, but you knew he was trying to put you in your place, so the action made a vein pop out on your forehead. You were so glad he couldn't see your face right now. Your words might've been sharp and snarky, but your face was flushed red and your eyes were rolling back in your head every time his fat cock thrust right against your sweet spot deep inside you, the one only he could reach. "I-I hate you-" You moaned out between his mean thrusts.
You heard him coo in response, his hand leaning the back of your neck so he could grip your waist with both hands and yank you back on his cock harder, fucking whines from your lips. "Don't talk to me like that baby, hurts my feelings~" Geto retorted, his jaw dropping in a small o when you rubbed your clit harder at his words, making your hole clench around him so tightly it felt like you were trying to milk him of all he was worth.
"Would you really be squeezing me this tight if you hated me? Hmm?" He teased, practically slamming your ass back on his pelvis, loud squelching noises bouncing off the walls. Thank god you were in this loud-ass club or everyone would know exactly what was going on, not like you really cared. "Shut up and fuck m-me." You responded curtly, closing your eyes as you tried to focus on reaching your high, timing your finger rubbing circles against your clit with his thrusts inside you.
"That's what I'm doing, dumb s-slut." Geto groaned, dropping his gaze to where the two of you were connected, feeling a warmth in his stomach bloom at the white ring of cum that had formed around the base of his dick. "Godd pussy is fucking milking me- you cant survive without me, need me- need this dick." Geto spoke between rough thrusts, his own words working himself up as he felt his high creep over him.
You grit your teeth at his words, moans spilling from your lips without your permission. He was fucking the shit out of you, you don't think he's ever been so rough before. His words, his hips, his hands, all of it, so fucking rough, and it was quickly working you up to your orgasm. You were too overwhelmed, tears started forming in your eyes with all of the stimulation and emotion you were feeling. He was hammering into your g-spot, making your legs shake uncontrollably.
"God- fuck- Gonna make me cum inside my pussy, my fucking pussy-" Geto babbled, shaking his head as he tried to get a peek at your face, noticing how you had bitten your lip between your teeth, tears streaming down your face. "Fuck, you crying? Feels that good?" He laughed. You didn't want him to know how good you were feeling, didn't want him to know his words were true; you couldn't live without him or his dick. His cock alone was literally fucking tears out of your eyes, it was so intense.
"Not gonna speak huh? Fine, stay quiet then." Your ex-boyfriend huffed, looking down at your pussy stretched around his girth as he fucked himself to his orgasm, you close behind him. "Shit- shit I'm coming- take it baby fu-ck~" Geto groaned, leaning over your back, burring his face into your neck. You felt his teeth dig into your neck when you felt the first rope of his warm seed shoot inside you, making your orgasm crash over you.
The two of you rode your highs out together, Geto's hips weakly and unceremoniously thrusting into your sopping cunt, working you through your orgasms. Geto jerked against your body, his strong hands wrapping around your torso as he kept you pressed against him, unloading his cum into your abused pussy. You whimpered into the wall, feeling his teeth leave your neck when he started coming down from his high, his face keeping its place in your neck.
The two of you stayed quiet for a while, relishing in the silence save for the dull booming of the club music echoing through the walls of the bathroom. Geto's hands were petting the skin of your hips, and for just a moment, you let yourself think everything was okay, losing yourself in the feeling; until he spoke. "I am sorry you know. So fucking sorry." He whispered into your neck, not daring to move.
You heaved out a sigh, pushing his arms off of you. You reached behind you and pushed his pelvis back, wincing in overstimulation when his softened cock slid out of your walls, his cum chasing after him, making your face scrunch at the uncomfortable feeling. "That wasn't what this was." You responded coldly. Bending down you pulled your panties up, keeping his cum snug inside you.
You turned around to watch him open your mouth, to which you held your hand up, stopping him; amazed when he actually listened. You pushed past him, bumping his shoulder in the process. Without another word, you unlocked the bathroom door and on shaky legs, left the small room and out into the nightclub to find Shoko and Utahime and get the hell out of there. Geto sighed deeply, tipping his head back as he stared at the ceiling before he closed his eyes, feeling the remorse wash over him, "fuck."
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monicahar · 1 year
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“what are you doing?”
you comically cower behind his back even further.
“hiding.”
“...why?”
“because there's a flipping lion in the room with us, JING YUAN. that's what.” you snap back angrily.
if you're wondering how you got into this predicament—it's not that far from being akin to a kidnapper leading on a child with sweets and delicacies.
under the guise of work and a few promised cuddles, he had made you follow his steps into his home—now with you glued to his body like it's your own lifeline. the snow-white lion snugly lies down by the only exit of the room you're both occupying—having just introduced herself when it came to jing yuan for a few pets, scaring the bejeebers out of you when its fur had grazed the back of your thighs all of a sudden.
the lion only shows confusion yet complies when jing yuan coaxed her to go away for a few moments. in other words—for you to take a breather.
in response to your much evident suffering and growing impatience, a mirthful laugh escapes him, craning his head to look at you over his shoulder to throw you a small mischievous grin “it's just my cat. i don't see the problem.”
“that's fully grown lion, you scoundrel!” you hit his back weakly, whisper-yelling as if said lion would attack you if you spoke any louder. “a-ah...it's looking at me weirdly. it's definitely thinking of how delicious i am!”
“mimi is very gentle. i doubt she's thinking of such a thing.”
you sink further in his shadow when the lion catches your wary gaze with a tilt of its head. “jing, please. it may like you, but i doubt that a territorial species would enjoy having a stranger around its person bubble.”
“you're free to leave anytime, darling. i'm not forcing you to stay.” he says coyly.
“with how your adorable little mimi is standing right by the door—i doubt i can leave of my own accord.”
“so you think she's adorable? good to hear that.” oh, now he has selective hearing?
“jing yuan. please.” you kneel down and tug on his robes pleadingly, catching him off guard to the point he has now decided to fully turn towards you in mild surprise. “i really don't know how to deal with this! i don't dislike her or anything, i'm just super scared that she won't like me and would—”
“calm down.” your lover couches down before you, hand raising to pat your head. “she doesn't bite. i promise.”
“how are you so sure?” you question incredulously, ignoring the way your heartbeat quickens at his actions. “even if she's domesticated, she's still an animal that thrives on her own survival instincts.”
“dearest, would i really have taken in a pet if it was openly feral?”
“yep. you would.” you reply in a heartbeat.
his eye twitches in return.“ahem—okay, so as i was saying,” standing up to his full height, he stretches out a hand towards you, staring at you softly as he does so. “we both know i adore delicate and gentle things, [name]. mimi is exactly that—hence why i didn't mind taking her in and burdened you with meeting her.”
you raise a brow. he shrugs, opting to resign upon your obvious reluctance on the matter.
“truthfully, i wished to see my two favourite companions to bond and get along with my own two eyes,” he heaves an apologetic huff, a tad bit disappointed whilst you only stare in surprise, “but if you're really uncomfortable with it then i suppose i shouldn't force you.”
he helps you up with ease when you finally put your hand on his, hastily padding off the dust that was caught in your clothes upon kneeling down.
grasping your hand comfortingly to calm your nerves, you hate that it work flawlessly upon his touch.
“let's go?”
you were about to nod—until your gaze catches the lion's once more.
...pretty eyes.
snowmoon.
your heart clenches at the realisation.
“on second thought...” you trail off, watching as the mammal sits up in anticipation at your eye contact. jing yuan raises a brow at you, “i think i'll try interacting with her.”
he huffs out a deep chuckle, “really, you don't have to—”
“mimi?” you call out, leaning sideways to look past behind your lover's tall figure. he does the same, turning his head over his shoulder to look at the same direction you're fixated on.
the lion perks up, and starts walking towards you. you grin, but not before whispering back to jing yuan,
“if she actually bites me, we're breaking up.”
“no promises.”
you finally pat the lion's head after about an hour of excessive whining it'll bite you, finally havin found the courage to actually see it as a mere domesticated cat whilst glaring daggers at the owner.
“mimi...attack that bad guy.” you point at him, face still looking smug as ever.
“she won't listen to y—” said lion pounces on him.
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idek what this is fiakehwjbsksbw i cant write no more man,,,,*/proceeds to make another jingyuan drabble in google doc
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novulen · 2 months
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ꜱʏɴᴏᴘꜱɪꜱ : the jjk men n the ‘gifts’ they’d give u for valentines 💌!
ᴄᴏɴᴛᴇɴᴛꜱ/ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢꜱ : 18+ (mdni), smut, oral (male receiving), cum!!, throat fucking, somewhat rough sex, toys, overstimulating, slight BDSM (Geto), (doll, baby, good girl) used to address reader, overall filthy☺️
ꜰᴇᴀᴛᴜʀɪɴɢ : Toji, Nanami, Gojo, n Geto
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𝐅𝐔𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐆𝐔𝐑𝐎 𝐓. ೋ
On the day of valentines, Toji gifts you roses, and perhaps whatever you’ve been talking about–believe it or not, he does listen when you ramble on and on about the little mini skirts you want, but for a sole purpose.
“Take it all–mhm, give me a lil’ show too, yeah?” Toji mumbles, watching as you take most, if not all, of his girthy cock down your little throat. A big hand of his slides down to your ass, admiring the little patterns and the light pink color of your mini skirt, especially eyeing the way the material covers little to nothing, revealing the thong kept underneath. “Fuck,” he groans, taking a handfull of your ass in his hands, feeling himself get impossibly harder simply by how soft all of you feels.
“T-Tojhi..” you murmur, mouth too full of cock to speak, and your pathetic little sounds come out muffled. Yet, amused, Toji grins. “No need for speaking, doll, jus’ keep sucking,”
And you do. but, when he cums down your throat, with such a huge load of hot seed in your mouth, you can’t help but cry out as your mouth’s filled with warmth.
“‘S too m–,” you sob, pleading for a chance of relieving your lungs from breathlessness though Toji is ruthless, still thrusting up into your mouth even as your manicured nails dig into the flesh of his muscular thighs.
“Mm-hm, but y’r gonna swallow it all, aren’t ya?” he hums, a noise of deep satisfaction booming from his own throat as you nod obediently, not wasting a second in swallowing all of his cum, as impossible as you deemed it from the moment he came.
And after such a satisfactory session, Toji can’t help but pull you close to him, skin to skin in the moment. “I should buy you more mini skirts, eh, what’d ya say?”
𝐍𝐀𝐍𝐀𝐌𝐈 𝐊. ೋ
Wholeheartedly will go all out. Gets you things you’d talked about ages ago–so much so that you yourself sometimes forget you’d spoken of such–dresses, purses, skirts, lingerie.
“Kento,” you mewl, unable to bear through the incessant shocks of ecstasy rocking through your body with each of his thrusts. You reach out for him, hands finding purchase on his broad shoulders, and hold on for dear life.
The beautiful set of red lingerie he’d bought for you is almost no more, ripped to shreds the moment you’d walked out the bathroom. It’s as if something that isn’t your husband has taken you, given the way he’s somewhat mercilessly fucking into your cunt, groaning deliciously vulgar words in your ear.
“So–hah–so fucking beautiful,” Nanami grunts, planting his forehead, sticky with perspiration, to yours lovingly. You moan as the feeling of him takes over your whole body, his scent, his breath hot against your skin, and his deep groans all prove to be too much–too much at the same time, at the very least.
He’s soon spilling himself inside you, moaning praises and everlasting statements of love into your ear, and you’re not far behind him. “Oh–god,” you whimper, womb filling to the hilt with your husband’s cum, and you can't think of a better way to end such a day.
𝐆𝐎𝐉𝐎 𝐒. ೋ
Like Nanami, although he’s much more of the reckless type when buying gifts. Sometimes even gets you things you don’t want, but you find it cute nonetheless. Although, you were surprised to see a little pink vibrator at the bottom of the bag he’d given you.
The more he presses down on your clit, the more the pleasure seems to burn. And Satoru might chuckle from your reaction, but his body’s tensing, his hands are losing their patience, and his cock is hardening in his pants.
“‘Toru, t-take it away, I can’t–,” you attempt to plead, closing your legs around the hand that’s keeping the toy flush to your pussy, but he refuses, shaking his head with a sly grin. Satoru only hushes you, and for trying to clamp down on his arm, he ups the power of the vibrator.
“C’mon, baby. ‘S just a lil’ stimulation, yeah? I’ll put my cock in ya soon.” he breaths, breath hot against your pulse point as he leans in to place kisses. Your back arches up from the sheets, sensitive nipples rubbing against the black fabric of his compression shirt, the added stimulation causing your third orgasm of the day to crash over you.
“See? Good girl.” he praises, finally gracing you the relief you’ve been begging of him, removing the toy from your clit, slick and other fluids dribbling from you. “Now you get to have me.”
But, even when he says those words as if it's some blessing, you, on the other hand, can’t find it in you to give him another. Knowing Satoru, and his inhuman sex drive, you’ll perhaps be here until night.
𝐆𝐄𝐓𝐎 𝐒. ೋ
Knows what you want but will try to ask you (at least somewhat sneakily) days beforehand. Always gets you the perfect amount of things–though this time, he’s given you more than you bargained for.
“Hm–you wanna touch me?” Suguru grins, greedy eyes raking over your body, soft and malleable in his hold. You’re on your fours, head pushed into the pillows, and as if that’s not enough, Suguru thought to tie your hands behind your back.
It’s almost malicious the way he chuckles–he can’t admit seeing this desperate side of his bratty girlfriend has brought out something in him.
“Please.” you mumble against the mountain of pillows he's pushed your face into, saliva dribbling down your cheeks onto the satin sheets. But, your pleas fall on deaf ears, given that Suguru’s in his own world.
Each of his pounding thrusts sends you jolting forwards, the only thing keeping you down being the strong hands planted firmly to your hips. He leans down, exhales fanning by your ear, as his hands simultaneously slide up to take a handful of your hair, pulling your head back just enough for you to wince in stinging pain.
“Isn’t this what you wanted, baby? Don’t tell me you’re backing down now.” he mumbles into your skin, tongue darting out to lick a line up to your ears. Once he figures that he’s shut you up, he hums in approval.
“Good. Lay there and take all of me.”
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lovrspell · 2 months
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Astarion not being used to someone that cares for his pleasure as much as you do.
warnings: 18+, fluff, breeding kink if you squint, aftercare, overstimulation, settled early in the relationship. reader is gn!
word count: 1,4k
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Astarion that, guiding you through your climax with slow drags of his hips, flinches when you pull him into a leg lock and wrap your arms around him the same way a koala does to a tree trunk. That is when you realize, even through your blurry vision and confused senses, he was about to pull out of your sex before he could reach his own peak.
He always does this, but this time you wouldn't let him. He has the right to enjoy the moment the same way you do.
You've thought that he does it simply because he prefers to finish up alone with his own hands, as he had done in front of you numerous times before; but you were wrong.
The truth is, he doesn't even think about it. He focuses on your pleasure, neglecting his own and even edging himself way more than he probably enjoys for the sake of your orgasms; accustomed to this way of things, as it has always been him pleasing other people that most of the time never gave his pleasure more than a elusive thought, it comes natural for him to bring you to ecstasy and not worry about enjoying his own too much.
You shouldn't blame yourself for not realizing it sooner, though. After all, your romantic journey has just recently started.
He admits, he was pretty startled at first; the sudden movement had shook him out of his own trance-like state, focused on the sensations. That dazed, imploring look that he's so used to when he buries himself deep inside you meets his own eyes, and his muscles soften again.
You're gasping and panting, but despite that you manage to whisper to him,
“Stay with me. You're not done yet, are you?”
He's surprised. He didn't even understand why, honestly. Maybe, he didn't expect you to worry about that; everyone is greedy in regards of their pleasure, right?
...But not you.
In the end, it makes sense. You love him. It should be obvious that you care about his pleasure too.
However, he's not even familiar to that bare minimum.
His hips falter and he loses focus for a moment, before shaking his head ‘no’.
He felt your legs loosen around his hips so you could slide your hands over his waist, your grip gentle and reassuring. You give his flesh an encouraging squeeze before beginning to guide his hips towards your throbbing entrance.
Astarion gasps softly, his lips parting in delight as he makes no further effort to move his hips on his own: he lets himself be guided by you, melting away in ecstasy.
He can't help but notice the fact that your thighs are shaking, though. He sees tears in the corners of your eyes, the way you bite your lip nervously, the way you try to hold back whimpers and consequently inhale sharply every once in a while.
This is too much for you.
You're far beyond your climax and it wasn't even the first one: you're oversensitive, yet you push his hips towards yours with determination because you wish for him to finish with you, inside you.
“I-... I can stop if you want me to,” Astarion murmurs, strangely aroused by that realization that had just occurred in his mind.
“No... No. Just tell me when you're close.” you reply immediately, showing no hesitation nor willingness to stop this.
Just because it's too much, it doesn't mean it doesn't feel good for you. Well, maybe it's just too good, actually. Astarion hears you curse under your breath as you struggle to keep your grip firm on him, and decides to regain control, adjusting himself more comfortably between your legs. He grabs your waist and starts thrusting into you in a pace of his own; he's shaking, his eyes closed as he falls into a state of pure bliss in which he's neither too far nor too close to his orgasm.
He feels your hands slowly snake towards his along your own body. Your fingers intertwine around his and as he absentmindedly looks up at your face, he catches your lips curl in a small smile. A smile that, printed on your pleasure-contorted face, is a view that manages to make his cock twitch as he fucks you.
You're happy. You're happy because he's climaxing inside you, thanks to you, thanks to your touch and your wet and warm and inviting walls clenching around him —
He's with you. He's still there.
Before he could ask why you're smiling, his hips falter again and he feels a sweet shiver run down his spine. He's close, so deliciously close.
“Ah,” he whimpers, taking his bottom lip in between his teeth and chewing on it. His brows furrow and he closes his eyes tightly. His back arches towards you and he leans in without thinking, burying his face in the crook of your neck. He trembles and he mumbles your name in your ear, over and over, hips chasing a relentless rhythm. Your own whimpers fill his ears as you arms wrap around his back, holding him close; it's so much, but you're willing to handle it for him. He has brought you to multiple orgasms in a single round several times, it's not like you're not used to it.
Next, his hands clutch your hips tightly and he groans as your walls clench tightly around his cock, sucking him in as if urging to not pull out. He welcomes that invitation.
Sloppy sounds, gasps and growls of excitement fill the room as, with one last hard, deep thrust he releases his cum inside you. He freezes, keeping his cock buried there — as deep inside you as possible, making you take every last drop of his semen.
Your walls tighten around him, your sex swells once more, but you don't reach another orgasm. That's fine, you think. Your focus is on Astarion and Astarion only.
He pulls back from your neck to rest his forehead against your own. He growls lowly as the pleasure dies down, a guttural sound that echoes through your being.
You've never seen him like this after any of his orgasms — and you've seen quite a few by now. He looks like he's in pure bliss, eyes half lidded and lips curved in a lazy smile. He's in heaven, you can tell. It's a good look on him.
“How do you feel?” you ask him, voice velvety and calm as you cradle him in your arms.
He doesn't pull out of you, rather stays perfectly still to not bother your tired, swollen sex — but he wants to cherish the feeling of your warmth hugging his cock a little longer.
You're fiery, both inside and out. It feels sublime.
“Mh.”
That's how you know it felt good.
“Mhm,” you echo him, nudging his forehead with yours and taking advantage of the closeness to steal a kiss from him.
“I truly cannot understand why I've never done this before.” he confesses, his voice an intimate whisper reserved to you and you only. He leans into you, pressing your sweaty bodies together.
“What? Come inside me?” you laugh quietly, moving a few wild curls away from his vision.
“Exactly that, love.”
“I guess it's better late than never.”
“You felt so good it's criminal I've never even gave it a thought.” he continues, giving you a sloppy kiss and letting his lips linger on your own for a bit longer, before he trails his mouth down your neck.
He prints tiny wet kisses all the way down your collarbone. You chuckle: it tickles a bit.
Although lying in his fluids combined with yours felt divine beyond comprehension and you didn't like the thought of putting off cuddling in bed until later at all, you had a tiring day ahead of you after tonight. It was already late: you have to settle down for the night. You have to sleep and, well, he might do for some meditation, or he could spend the night watching you sleep. A bit unsettling, but you've grown used to it.
“...Let's go take a bath, come on.” you whisper in his ear after a few moments of silence and, although the sigh against your skin lets you know that he wants to stay like this a little longer too, he gives a hum of approval.
After all, he doesn't care where he is as long as he can bask in your embraces.
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sweetbuckybarnes · 4 months
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Who is This? - Bucky x Reader
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Pairings: Bucky Barnes x reader
Summary: Bucky had a wife during the 40s, she was left heartbroken after the telegram arrived (missing, presumed dead). It's surprising when 80 years later, she was working behind a bar in Madripoor of all places!
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Bucky followed Sam and Zemo into a loud bar, he immediately wanted to turn around and go home, why had Zemo demanded he go back to being the Winter Soldier (even if it was one night)?
The sound of heavy drums and guitars also deafened his hearing, a song he had come to learn was The Wild Boy by a band called Duran Duran. A few bartenders and waitresses were walking around, there was only one who stuck out to him - a dark-haired young woman who reminded him too much of his departed wife.
His heart breaks even more, thinking of the woman he had left behind, his girl. The love of his life. Bucky doesn't think he will ever 'get over' her.
The way the young woman walked, carrying a tray of empty glasses (before being tossed an empty bottle by a patron), was so similar to the way his girl walked in the hole-in-the-wall diner she worked in.
She wasn't quick enough to duck under the bar before they got to the door leading upstairs (which was coincidentally next to the bar), Zemo was talking to the bouncer. "Excuse me, gentlemen," the young woman said, squeezing between the back of Zemo and the front of Bucky. Which is when he got a good look at her face.
There she was.
His girl. His wife.
He couldn't even say anything to her, as he was taken upstairs and away from his girl. He could only hope he would be allowed back in at the end of the night to see her.
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Y/N Barnes made her way behind the bar, glancing up at the TV where the Kansas City Chiefs were currently playing the Buffalo Bills at Arrowhead Stadium, then down at her phone which showed the live score of the Dodgers game against the San Francisco Giants.
She had been a long-time Dodgers girl, even after she found out they had moved from Brooklyn to Los Angeles.
"Did you see the way he was looking at you?" Yasmine asked, pushing a dry Martini in front of a 26-year-old woman.
Y/N looked up from the glasses she was putting in the dishwasher. "Huh? What are you talking about?"
"One of the men who went upstairs. The way he was looking at you," Yasmine fans her hand for dramatic effect. "I would drop my panties for him in a millisecond."
"Like you don't do that every night."
Yasmine rolled her eyes and served the next half-drunk who had come to the bar.
"Don't listen to her," Anastasia told her, rolling her eyes as Yasmine flirted with her current flavour of the week.
"It's not often I do, darling," Y/N replied, fiddling with Anastasia's curls for a second, before spotting a patron. "What can I get for you, darling?"
He hung off the bar, obviously far too drunk to understand what was going on. "Another beer and your phone number," he slurred.
She shook her head, reaching over and grabbing him another beer. As far as the boss of the bar (whoever that was) was concerned unless they were unconscious- why should you stop serving them? Y/N thought it wasn't right, but no matter how often she voiced this - she was shut down.
She set the beer in front of him and then went to the register to add it to his bill (good thing she currently has his credit card behind the bar).
"Oi, sweet cheeks!" He calls, but Y/N doesn't pay attention looking over at Yasmine and Anastasia with a raised eyebrow. "Sweet cheeks! I asked for your number."
Y/N replied by simply raising her hand proudly displaying her engagement and wedding rings to the drunk. It was only a small diamond (given Bucky worked on the docks before he was deployed), and the plain band she inherited from her great-grandmother.
"What's the matter with that 'un?" He hiccups. "He got you costume jewellery or somethin'?"
Y/N shook her head. "I'm going into the back for a moment," she tells Aidan.
Little did the drunk patron know, all those years ago, this was the date she was handed the telegraph - putting in such blunt words. Her James was missing, they presumed him to be dead. It breaks her heart that they never got to have a proper funeral.
"You alright, honey?" Elizabeth (another one of the waitresses) asked, she had been outside on her break. Elizabeth was the only one who knew her true age and about her James.
"It's the day I found out James was missing," Y/N said, before bursting into more tears.
Elizabeth wrapped Y/N up in a hug, everyone oblivious to the fact that Y/N's presumed dead husband was now running through the bar, flocked by Sam and Zemo, and into the alley behind the bar.
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When Bucky was sure Zemo, Sam and Sharon were asleep, he slipped out of the safe house and into the night - determined to find out if the woman he saw in the bar was that of his (presumably? should be?) dead wife.
He eventually made his way to the front door of the bar, the bouncers had long since gone home. He could see lights on in the building and just about make out words being spoken thanks to the Super Soldier serum running through his veins.
He grasped the handle and gave it a push, the door hadn't been locked, as it gave beneath the slight push.
He could see three young women sitting on the bar, a man who was counting the money from the register and another man who was dancing.
The young woman sitting closest to the bar, had golden curls hanging around her head. "Mark, you didn't lock the door!"
The man dancing, Mark, looked over at Bucky, eyes widening when he saw the size of Bucky. "I say we just serve him, then lock the door behind him."
As the bartenders and waitress argued amongst themselves, Bucky's eyes never left the woman in the middle. It looked as if she had been crying. "Babydoll?"
The woman stopped giggling, tipping her head back to normal and looked at him, before dropping her glass as tears welled up in her eyes. "James?"
The curly-haired woman gasped, setting her glass down and giving Y/N a push off the bar.
Bucky held his arms out to catch her as her feet landed on the floor. He couldn't stop looking at her big eyes, he'd always loved her big expressive eyes. He always knew how she was feeling by just a look in her eyes.
"James? Is that you?" Her hand came out slowly, and shakily, as if she couldn't believe what she was seeing in front of her.
"Hi, babydoll," Bucky smiled, tears starting to fall down his cheeks, a heavy sob held tightly in his chest at the moment in time. As soon as her fingers met his skin, Bucky let out a heavy sigh of relief, reaching over and pulling her into his arms. Y/N's arms dug themselves away from his chest and up around his neck before her hand soon started fiddling with his hair.
The couple stood there for a moment, finally finding their slice of peace. Some came barging into the bar, and the dark-haired woman who had been sitting on the other side of Y/N practically demanded Mark lock the door before the Hounds of Baskerville came in.
Y/N was so happy to finally have her James back in her arms, but there was a whirling sound she couldn't let go. "What's that noise?"
Bucky looked from his wife to his arm and back to his bride. "I'll explain everything to you later, but... I lost my arm, and I now have a prosthetic one," he tells her, letting go of her for a moment so he could take his glove off and show her the black and gold Vibranium one he had made.
"Ok, James. It's a good thing you gave me this," she reached beneath her top and pulled a ring out from beneath, hanging from a chain. "Before you were deployed."
Bucky smiled, cupping her face so he could kiss her. Bucky pulled away chuckling a little. "Babydoll, will you please put my ring back on?"
She reached behind her to unclasp the chain, and slid Bucky's band off, "if it doesn't fit we'll get it resized."
"I don't care what size it is, as long as you put my ring back where it belongs," Bucky almost growled, a piece of him falling back into place with the ring back on his finger.
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The next morning - Sam, Zemo and Sharon came into the living room, seeing Bucky sleeping on the sofa (Sam was expecting this, after being told by Steve), however, there was a lump lying next to Bucky they didn't recognise.
Sam slowly makes his way over, gently easing down the thick blanket lying over Bucky and the lump.
Lying there, practically on top of the 'bionic staring machine' was a young woman.
"Did he somehow pick up a girl?" Sam whispered. Sam and Sharon were trying to be quiet - however, Zemo (who didn't care) started clattering around the kitchen, causing Bucky to wake up in a start, which then caused the young woman to look up with tired owl-like eyes.
"What the hell is going on?" Bucky nearly demanded, keeping his arms wrapped around his companion.
Sam raised his eyebrow. "I could ask you the same question, Barnes?" Sam looked at the young woman in Bucky's arms. "Who is this?"
Bucky looked down at her, Sam watched as a smile grew on his face. "This is Y/N. Y/N Barnes. My wife."
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Breakfast Time
My son’s stuck in a time loop again.
He thinks I don’t know, of course. He’s never told me that this happens to him (or that he can do this, possibly; I’m not sure which it is.) Maybe I’m a bad mother, if I haven’t proven myself worthy of that trust. But there is only so many times that one can watch their son trudge through a day with bored impatience, anticipating everything you say just a little too quickly and showing no surprise to even the most surprising event, and then come downstairs the next day disoriented but rejuvenated and with a new zest for life and a tendency to get blindsided by even the most predictable things, before one makes the obvious connection.
I don’t think he’s lived through this day too many times yet, because he’s not frustrated by my good morning joke but not surprised by the monster attack being announced on the news. He eats his toast makes polite conversation that sounds just a little too rote until his sister comes down, and he puts his toast down in that distinctive way that make her eyes widen in sudden realisation, a reaction I never would have noticed if I wasn’t looking for it. He told her about three time loops ago, I think, although it might’ve been earlier and I just never noticed the signal until then. I make sure to keep the smile on my face as I push a plate of toast towards her.
The thing on the news is some kind of flying beast, and my son’s eyes don’t leave the TV screen. I expect that calm, solid determination that I usually see in his expression on days like this, but instead he watches it only with a wary sort of calculation. I suppress a sigh – it looks like I won’t be remembering today, then.
The pair exchange glances and look to me. “Hey, mum, I figured we should go to school early. We’ve both got these big tests coming up and – ”
“Yes, fine, whatever. Go.” I know what you’re thinking – obviously they’re off to do something dangerous, and obviously they’re far too young for this sort of thing, and obviously I shouldn’t enable this, and I’m a terrible parent for letting them run off to maybe get themselves killed someday. But I put this to you:
How, exactly, do you expect me to stop them?
As my son heads for the door, though, I almost stop him. I consider, not for the first time, just telling him what I know, what I’ve figured out, and asking him to explain everything, to say where he’s going and what he plans to do about that thing and if his sister is involved and if they at least have help, to put my mind at ease. I don’t, though. Because, logically… I must have done that before, right? In at least one of the countless days that never happened. I must have gotten worried or angry or just fed up with this ridiculous charade and told him that he wasn’t as good at hiding as he thought he was. He has to know that I know, right? And yet, he still chooses to let it play out like this.
Or, perhaps, he told me once. That must have happened, right? I must have been there to help, to patch his wounds and dry his tears and listen to him confess his fears or his worries or his regrets about this big responsibility, about whatever he’s doing out there. He must have told me, at some point, at least once, in one of those nonexistent days. And afterwards, he chose not to tell the me that stuck around. Meaning that I must have given him some reason to keep this secret.
What did I do to him? What did I say to him? How bad a confidante must I have been, that he chooses instead to keep me in the dark?
They leave, they ‘go to school early’, and I start on the dishes. As I wash my daughter’s breakfast crumbs away, the plate slips from my fingers and shatters on the tiles at my feet. I sigh, and turn to get a broom.
Then stop. Pick up all the other dirty plates. And shatter them, one by one, on the tiles.
Then I leave the mess behind me, pull a full tub of rocky road ice cream out of the freezer, and resolve to spend the day eating junk and watching youtube videos. After all, it’s not like it’s going to matter tomorrow, right?
7K notes · View notes
withahappyrefrain · 3 months
Text
Ruin the Friendship- Bob Floyd
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Warnings: Best friends to lovers trope, it’s so obvious they love each other they’re stupid, language, filth, some angst (why not?), unprotected sex, oral sex (f receiving), Bob being pussy drunk.
Summary: The night before Bob leaves for Boot Camp, he's learned no one has gone down on his best friend. He's determined to fix that.
Words: 4.8K
This is for @attapullman's Bob Fucks celebration!
When you've been friends with someone since preschool, you get to know them like the back of your hand. Certain quirks and sayings that no longer surprise you. 
“God, I wish that were me.”
It wasn't the first time Bob heard you say that. Usually there was a cute dog around, or a sushi boat being delivered at a restaurant when you said it. 
But saying it during an oral sex scene in a movie was new. 
It also brought up many questions. 
Questions Bob shouldn't ask, considering he's known you since preschool. Questions Bob couldn't ask right now, because he was too preoccupied looking at you. 
Your eyes were fixated on the screen, focused on the actress withering. Occasionally, they would dart to the other actor who was between the actress’ thighs. Bob noticed the increased rise and fall of your chest, how your front teeth dug into your bottom lip, how when you lean forward, the v-line cut of your shirt showed off the tops of your breasts. The soft glow of the lamps highlighted the beautiful features on your face. 
All things he shouldn’t be noticing about his best friend. But then again, best friends shouldn’t be watching a French film together whose plot line focused on sexual liberation before he went off to Navy boot camp. 
Granted, you and Bob haven’t had a conventional best friend relationship in a while, if at all, considering both sets of parents claimed you two promised to marry each other at the age of four. 
Promises or not, best friends shouldn’t be one another’s first kiss. Or make out practice partners. Or each other’s New Year's kiss when y'all were single. Or spend Valentine's Day together at the local dinner. 
The line between friends and something more was blurry, saved by a comment that ensured the other to think that the feelings that had been brewing weren't reciprocated. 
“You’re a good kisser. Kelsey McCoy is going to think so too.”
“If Tommy Delaine doesn't like you, he's a dumbass.” 
“I’m sure next year you’ll have someone.”
“If I had to spend it with anyone, I want it to be with my best friend.”
“You’re an amazing friend, you know that?”
Why say that if you harbor romantic feelings? Surely, all those kisses and talk of marriage meant nothing to them. 
At least that's what the other thought. 
It's because of this blurry line that Bob doesn't bite his tongue, doesn't throw away the comment to be forgotten. Instead, he speaks up. 
“Been awhile?” 
And because it's Bob, the guy you've known your whole life, the guy you tell everything to, your response rolls off your tongue without a second thought. 
“Try never.” 
It takes Bob a moment to process your words as the way your lips wrap around the beer bottle is far too distracting. But just like processing a car accident, once it registers, your words bring his brain to a screeching halt. 
“Wait, never?” The shrug you give isn’t satisfactory. He grabs the remote to pause the movie, ignoring your cries of protest. 
“Real talk; are you saying that no one has ever gone down on you?” 
You sigh, regretting saying anything in the first place. One would think that after years of friendship, you’d know well enough that once Bob set his mind to something, he wouldn't relent until satisfied. 
You down the remnants of your beer, mentally preparing for this conversation. 
“No Robby. I've never had someone eat me out. Happy now?” Reaching for the remote was all in vain, as he just held it further away from you. 
Darn those long limbs. 
“But you've been with people…..so what did they do?” When you looked at him, there was no malice, just Bob looking genuinely baffled. His gentle blue eyes put you at ease, giving you the comfort to explain. 
“They would touch me,” you motioned to the lower half of your body, “And like finger me. Enough to get me ready, I guess.” 
Bob raised an eyebrow, “You guess?” 
College was supposed to be a time for you to explore, to figure yourself out, to interact with new people. 
And yet, when it came to the relationship aspect, everything had fizzled. You were now going into your junior year having yet to experience a meaningful romantic relationship. 
Did you just have shit luck? Or was it because your mind would wander back to a bespectacled best friend when you were in bed with someone else? 
“So instead of eating you out, which would actually be enjoyable on your end, you're telling me they just stuck their hand down there and hoped they were rubbing your clit? You didn't ever ask them to do something else?” 
Bob didn't have the pristine mouth that parents thought he possessed. You knew, and had known for a while. And yet, hearing him say the phrase your clit in his deep, slightly twangy voice felt different. 
You rubbed your thighs together. 
“Are you shaming the people I've been with or me?” 
Bob closed the difference between you and him on the couch, placing a hand on your bare knee. 
Have his hands always been so big and veiny? 
Fuck, did you have a thing for hands? 
“I'm not shaming you. I’m shaming the people you've been with because well,” he ran a hand up and down the back of his neck, “Well, I enjoy giving….I like doing it. So I guess I'm surprised other people don't?” 
His statement was shocking because everyone else you had been with viewed it as a chore, as something to use every excuse in the book to avoid doing. 
Too tired. Takes too long. Wet enough so what's the point? 
“You…like doing it?” 
The tops of his cheeks reddened, despite a smirk beginning to form, “Yeah. I like giving and I like making them feel good. It's also a confidence booster, being able to make someone fall apart with your mouth.” 
It shouldn't come as a surprise, it was Bob after all. The same Bob who always brought an extra pencil with him to algebra, in case you forgot yours. The same Bob who shared his Dunkaroos because your mom refused to buy them. The same Bob who made his dream of serving his country finally come true after years of hard work. 
He was selfless. But this didn't feel like selflessness. Hearing him talk about giving pleasure, making someone fall apart with his mouth, was different. Even his voice when he said it was different, raspier than usual. 
“Well,” you scooted closer to the edge of the couch, trying to widen the gap so he couldn't feel how hot your body was, “I can't wait ‘til I meet someone who feels the same way.” 
“You don't have to wait.” 
The grip on your beer bottle tightened, the alcohol getting caught in your throat. There's no way he could have just said that, no way he could be implying what you're thinking. 
But when you look at Bob, he was staring back with raised eyebrows and thin lips curled into a little smirk. The same look he’s given you countless times before when he mumbles a smartass comment only your ears were privy to hear. 
You heard me. 
“What-are you…” You stared at him, mouth agape. Bob appeared unphase by it, like he had just offered something totally normal and rational. 
Perhaps it was the three beers he had downed. Perhaps it was the rush of adrenaline kicking in after realizing this was his last chance at making a move before he left. 
“Wouldn't that be like crossing a line?” Your head was racing, alternating between flashbacks of when you kissed Bob and imagining what it would be like to have his mouth on your body. 
“Wouldn't be much different from what we’ve already done.” 
All the air was sucked out of the room by his comment. Because of course he wasn't doing this because he wanted to, because he wanted you. This would be meaningless, just like everything else. If you went through with this, you’d wake up the next day to Bob leaving with nothing changed, still in this seemingly endless limbo. 
Long, nimble fingers hooked themselves under your chin, gently forcing you to look up. 
The look he gave you was unfamiliar. His eyes remained focused on your face, though it seemed like they were searching. 
For what, you couldn't tell. 
After what felt like an eternity, he finally spoke, his voice barely above a whisper. 
“Do you want it to be different?” 
What good was telling him if he didn’t feel the same way, thus ruining a great friendship?
“Do you want it to be different Robby?” You countered back. 
He leaned in, his breath hot on your face, “I asked you first.”
He thought he had the upper hand. But you were like a lightning bug, faster.  
“I asked you second, Robby.”
Like a rubber band, the tension snapped as Bob was unable to hold back a snort of laughter. The tension left your shoulders, the sight of him laughing familiar and safe. 
“I’m going to really miss your resounding maturity,” Bob deadpanned after gaining the ability to compose himself, though a sweet crooked smile remained. 
It was now your turn to roll your eyes, though it didn’t stop the smile currently forming on your face. Seeing this side of Bob was always fun; most folks thought he was quiet and meek. The truth was that he liked to observe and didn’t find value in speaking when it wasn’t necessary. He didn’t hold back with you, didn’t feel the need to sit and observe. He truly conversed with you and you’d be lying if you said it didn’t make you feel special. 
He was never that way with the other girls he dated. 
“You love me,” you teased back. It was a comment you've said countless times, always with that sweet, albeit mischievous smile that made Bob's heart flutter. 
But this time instead of shaking his head or rolling his eyes, he leaned forward until your foreheads were touching. 
Seeing him up close took your breath away. You could see how his roots were beginning to darken, the blonde fading as he got older. The little scar on his chin from a BB Gun incident when he was ten. Eyes bluer than the ocean. The ends of his hair were beginning to curl, something you'd greatly miss when he'd get the military mandated buzz cut. 
“Yeah, I do.” There was no teasing in his voice. No mischief in his eyes. Instead of playfully shaking your shoulder, his hand found its way to the back of your neck, fingers cupping your warm skin. He was moving quickly, making you unable to truly process what he had just said. 
Despite it being new territory, he was handling it beautifully. You, on the other hand, were torn between wondering if your increased heart beat was medically concerning and how large Bob’s hands were. 
“You gotta….if you want to stop, tell me,” His breathing had increased, like it did when he had finished his part in the marching band. But this wasn’t marching band practice and y’all weren’t on the high school field. You were in your parents’ basement, with Bob’s lips quickly closing the gap between yours and his. 
It wasn’t your first time kissing Bob, but it might as well have been. Years of experience had given him more confidence. He knew where to put his hands now, one still on your neck to guide you, the other gripping the soft flesh of your hip. He didn’t hesitate to slide his tongue across your bottom lip, successfully driving you wild. 
When the rounded tip of his nose brushed against yours, a soft laugh escaped your lips. Bob didn’t mind, using the chance to let his tongue explore your mouth. Your body leaned towards him, hands gripping the soft fabric of his old Warped Tour T-shirt. 
“I thought you,” your words were slurred, a weak moan interrupting your speech due to his lips moving down to your neck, “Thought you were gonna eat me out.” 
Bob’s moan vibrated against your skin, sending shivers down your spine. His hands traveled to your breasts, gripping them through your T-shirt. It wasn't a hard squeeze, which is what you were used to. 
It was pleasurable. Bob was pleasurable. 
“Did none of the guys you were with do foreplay?” He asked, his hands continuing their ministrations. 
“I-fuck- yes they did, it just never took this long,” you grunted against his lips. 
“God, you have terrible taste in men.”
You wanted to let Bob know that he was now included in that group. But then his fingers hooked themselves around the band of your shorts, pulling them down. Had you known what tonight would entail, you would have opted for underwear that wasn't so worn. The long hairs on his arms tickled your sensitive skin as he moved to kneel on the floor, the cool basement air making you realize just how wet you were. 
How could he do that so quickly? 
He pinned your hips against the soft couch cushions. With anyone else, you would complain with how hard he was gripping your soft skin. But with Bob, you’d love it. It meant hand-shaped bruises that would stay after he left, reminding you of tonight. 
When his sharp nose nudged your clothed slit, a loud gasp erupted from your mouth. 
Thank god your parents were on vacation. 
His tongue was so wide as it stroked the quickly dampening fabric. How was he able to find your clit so quickly? Most struggled to find it even after your panties had been taken off. 
Bob couldn’t help but chuckle upon hearing your strained whimpers. You were practically squirming, hips erratically jerking with every touch. 
“Wha-why did you stop?” You whined, looking down to find him staring up to you. 
“Are you-I just need to know, do you still want this?” God, he was so fucking considerate. In any other moment, you’d find it endearingly sweet. 
But if his tongue felt that good against your covered cunt, you were dying to feel it without the barrier. 
“Robby, I swear to god, if you don’t eat me out, I’m going upstairs and using my vibrator,” Your voice was strained, your knuckles turning white from gripping the couch cushions.  
He laughed.  Bob knew you were bluffing. He had just gotten started and you were already so wet. 
Slowly, he took his glasses off, placing them on the coffee table behind him, making a show of it. 
“Won’t need those. I’m nearsighted after all.”
“You little-” The insult remained unsaid, as Bob pushed your underwear to the side, his mouth instantly latching onto your swollen clit. 
His mouth was warm. The pressure wasn’t too much, just enough to make you wither in pleasure. It felt so good, so fucking good. When Bob looked up, he found your mouth open, despite no sounds coming out. 
Good. 
You deserved to know what it was like, to have someone care about your pleasure, to focus solely on making you feel incredible. 
God, he could feel his cock throbbed. You looked so pretty with your eyes glazed over, mouth agape as you watched him, completely enthralled. 
And he had just gotten started. 
He wanted to do more than make you come, he wanted to blow your mind. Call it selfish, but Bob wanted to ruin you for anyone else. He had always held back his tongue when it came to the people you dated, knowing sooner or later you'd realized they weren't worth your time. 
But now he had his chance and Bob sure as hell wasn't going to let it slip away. 
The loud sound of fabric ripping broke you out of the pleasure filled haze you were in. Before you could make a sound about your now ripped underwear, your knees were pinned to your chest, giving Bob complete access to your soaked core.
“So fucking sweet,” He groaned against your cunt, sending vibrations all through your body, “Sweetest thing I’ve ever tasted.” 
“Robby.” 
To say Bob dreamed of hearing you moan his name would be the understatement of the fucking century. 
Your whole body was on fire, unable to do anything else but take everything Bob was giving. 
A resounding moan fell from your lips as Bob thrusted two fingers inside you, your walls struggling to accommodate the unexpected stretch. 
Was he this thick elsewhere?
You wanted to find out. Wanted to feel it inside you, in your mouth. You shamelessly wanted it all. But you couldn’t even voice that because Bob was tracing figure eights on your clit, his fingers brushing against a spot you thought Cosmo had made up. 
Fuck, he was doing a number on you. His soft hair threaded through your fingers as you gripped the strands. Your hips involuntarily jerked upwards, desperate to get as much of Bob as possible. 
You kept expecting him to stop, considering you were wet enough for him to fuck you. That's what everyone else did. 
But Bob Floyd wasn't like everyone else. Far from it. 
He was fucking delighted to hear all the cute, strained noises coming from you as he continued.  Each time you tugged on his hair, a groan would fall from his lips. It was the prettiest sound you had ever heard. 
Why did either of you wait this long? 
You tried to communicate, to let him know you were close, tugging on his hair, trying to move away from his mouth. 
But Bob was deceivingly strong, using his free hand to pin your hip back to the couch, his mouth firmly on your pussy. 
When you looked down, you were in awe of how blissed Bob looked. His eyes were closed as his mouth remained latched to your clit. The sounds of your own wetness were obscene, but barely audible over the moans Bob was letting out. 
He really did enjoy it.
“Come. Wanna taste ya,” His voice was muffled as he added a third finger inside you. 
Worried thoughts of coming on his face left your brain as pleasure coursed through your veins. Without any warning, the band that had been tightening came undone.
Bob used both hands to hold your hips firmly in place, his tongue lapping up your release. 
You don't recall coming this hard or this long before. It wasn't a small wave, it felt like the whole damn ocean was taking you under. 
His fingers continued to stretch you open, prolonging your high. The Navy was the perfect fit for him, considering he could apparently hold his breath for an impressive amount of time. 
The soft fabric of the couch cushions brushed as the back of your head, your eyes half closed. You couldn't even voice an acknowledge when Bob’s mouth and fingers withdrew from your abused cunt. 
“You're so pretty when you come,” Bob murmured, his lips brushing against yours. 
Your hands tugged on the soft fabric of his shirt, pulling him closer. 
“M-my turn,” you whined, hips jerking up towards his. 
Bob shook his head, “Wanna be inside ya.” 
How was this the same guy who feared clowns as a kid? 
Before you could even question it, Bob had sat down on the couch, gripping your hips to help you straddle his lap. When had he taken off his jeans? How was he so quick- 
Jesus Christ, he was huge. 
“Fuck, she was right.” 
Bob looked up from where you two were about to connect, a very confused look on his face, “Excuse me?” 
“Betsey Thomas said you had a huge dick,” you confessed, wishing that you'd think before speaking for once. 
Bob’s brows knitted together in confusion, “Betsey Thomas has never seen my dick, the fuck are you talking about?” 
“Said she could tell you were packing because of the gym shorts you'd wear for PE class.” Bob signed, shaking his head as he muttered something about the required uniform. 
“I….we can unpack this later-” 
You snorted, “Why? Too busy packing here?” 
Your laughter was cut short by Bob rubbing his cock against your soaked cunt. Memories of high school escaped your brain, the only thing you could focus on now was Bob and his huge dick. 
Curious wasn't accurate. Frankly, you were desperate for him. Had been since middle school, if you were being truthful. 
“Woah, hey. Easy baby, easy,” his voice made your thighs clench, made you whine into his shoulder as you tried to line your aching hole with his cock. 
Finally, you felt him at your entrance. Slowly, he filled you up inch by inch. Every time you tried to urge him to go faster, Bob would simply shake his head before pressing a kiss against your cheek. 
“Don't want to hurt ya darlin’.” 
Darlin. You were his darlin. 
He made you feel so full, and you didn't even have it all inside of you yet. All you could do was cling to him as he whispered praises in your ears. 
Once you reached the base, it felt like you and Bob were the only ones in the world. At least, that’s what you pretended. It was better than thinking about how he would be gone for who knows how long after tonight. After boot camp was done, he would be off to train for the Navy. 
Even he didn't know when he would return home. 
It wasn't fair, finally expressing your feelings for one another just to be separated immediately after. You wanted him to stay, to go on dates with him, to visit him on the weekends when school started, just like everyone else in a long distance relationship. 
“Hey, what's wrong? Do you- we can stop if you want, it's okay.” Bob’s voice was soft, full of concern. 
His hand lifted your chin up from his shoulder, revealing your watery eyes. 
“I don't want you to go.” 
“I know,” his voice was barely a whisper, matching your volume. Long fingers gently traced over your face, as if he was trying to memorize them. 
“I know it's horrible timing, but we'll figure it out, okay? I want to figure it out with you, I promise,” He peppered your face with soft kisses, earning a small smile out of you. 
“But for now, can I make ya feel good? Because I'm willing to bet no guy has made you come while fucking ya.” 
Unlike in the past, where Bob’s smartass comments earned him a shove, you pressed your lips against his. 
“I'm gonna start moving now, okay?” Even though he warned you, nothing could have prepared you for how full Bob made you when his hips thrusted upwards. 
“You're-fuck- you feel so good, oh my God.” 
Your fingers tangled into Bob’s hair, trying to commit the feeling to memory. 
Bob was trying to do the same, his hands roaming over your body as he took in your scent. Maybe if he asked nicely, you'd let him take a bottle of your perfume with him. 
He was going to need it for the next few months. 
Your mouth clashed against his, tongue desperate to taste him. Wandering hands desperate to feel everything everywhere. 
“When-fuck- when I come back, wanna take you out. W-we can go to that Italian place by your school. The one where you have to wear a tie.” How Bob was able to talk coherently while fucking you was beyond comprehension. 
The Navy will be lucky to have his great ability to multitask. 
“Gonna bring ya flowers too. Sunflowers ‘cause they're-oh my god- you're favorite.” You didn't think you could recall your full name with the way Bob is thrusting into you, much less favorite things. 
Your walls clench around Bob’s thick cock, eliciting a desperate groan from him, rather than the instant ejaculation you were used to. 
“If you keep doing that, I'm gonna come,” Bob whined into the crook of your neck.
“That’s-shit- the point,” you grunted, your hips picking up speed. 
Bob shook his head, “Need you to come first.” 
Confusion caused you to still your hips, “Bob, I already-” 
“Don't finish that sentence, don't you dare,” Bob ended his command with a strong thrust that made you feel as if he was splitting you open on his cock. 
Your head dropped down to the crook of his neck. His skin was so warm and the smell of sage was nearly overwhelming. You knew exactly what body wash he had used, as it was the same one he wore ever since junior year, when you commented on how nice it was. 
In hindsight, it was painfully obvious. 
His lips found yours, capturing them in a desperate kiss. When you felt his fingers draw circles on your clit, you saw stars. 
You didn't know it could feel this good with someone. This was more than a quick fuck, as you actually felt cared for. It was intense, the sensitivity of your first orgasm still echoing every time the thick head of his cock brushed against your walls. 
It's audible how wet you are for Bob. He can feel it at the base of his cock, which makes him wonder what it would be like to have you on your knees, or better, your back, all spread out for him. 
“C’mon sweet girl,” he’s panting, voice desperate and raspy, “Wanna-fuck! Wanna feel you come s’bad, please, please baby.” 
Each circle drawn on your clit causes the band in your stomach to tighten. Combined with Bob’s words, you knew you wouldn't last much longer. 
“You're incredible, shit, I-fuck. All yours. Wanna be all yours. Fuck fuck fuck, clenching me so hard, fuck, don't stop.” Obscene was not a word many, if any, would use to describe Bob Floyd. 
Up until thirty minutes ago, you would have considered yourself part of that group. 
But now? Now you were falling apart on his cock. The rush of pleasure had hit like a brick, coursing through your veins. It hit harder than anything else, harder than the now banned alcohol caffeine combo drink, or any controlled substance doctors had prescribed to help you focus. 
His finger-fuck, usually you had to use two of your own- didn’t stop rubbing your clit, nor does he stop thrusting in and out of your pulsing cunt. It's almost as if-no, you know Bob’s enjoying making you feel euphoria. 
That's what blows your mind. His laser focus on your pleasure, rather than his own. Truthfully, he could have come already and you wouldn't have thought twice about it. 
But now it was all you could think about. How much he cared, how good he felt. How incredible it was for him to pull your hips flushed against his, filling you to the brim with his cock. 
“Holy shit you're so tight-I, sh-should I pull out?” 
Instead of answering, you used all your strength to rock your hips against him. Considering he made you come twice, the least you could do was help him find his release. 
Your fingers gripped his hair, tugging on the strands as your mouth clashed against his. 
The downright guttural groan he releases against your mouth has you clamping down on his cock. The motion finally leads to Bob’s undoing, causing him to come deep inside you, warmth flooding your body. 
His arms are wrapped around your body, clinging onto you as if he thinks you'll disappear if he lets go. 
You’d be a damn fool to. 
The basement is now quiet, apart from the heavy breathing coming from both you and Bob. 
After several minutes pass by, you gather the courage to break the silence, “Did you mean all that? Taking me out on a date and being mine?” 
Bob’s cheek burned a bright red as he timidly nodded his head, “I….yeah. I didn't mean to say it when we were, you know. I'm sorry.” 
You pressed a reassuring kiss to his warm cheek, “Robby, what do you feel the need to apologize for?” 
He looked up to you, those earnest blue eyes sparkling, “Shit timing?” 
“You're not wrong about that, but like you said earlier, I want to work it out with you.” Your words brought comfort, giving Bob the confidence to place a sweet kiss right on your lips. His smile was burning into yours, causing your stomach to flutter. 
“I know it's not that Italian restaurant, but can I take you out to breakfast tomorrow?” 
The local diner had been a go-to since y'all were thirteen. But this time would be different. This time you wouldn't feel the urge to look away when he caught you staring. This time neither one would correct the waitress when she'd make a comment about y'all being a cute couple. 
The soft call of your name pulled you out of your thoughts. 
“Uh can I….eat you out again? Tomorrow obviously! Like before we go to the diner?” 
Good Lord this man was going to be the death of you.
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papercorgiworld · 3 months
Text
Sleeping with a prefect
Mattheo Riddle imagine
Mattheo flirts with you because of your status as a prefect. However, you aren’t the only one falling in love. Fluff, smut, dramatics and you get to pick your ending sweet or smutty.
Warning: sweet smut
Picture source: https://pin.it/7BiTOcrKF
A/N: I planned to post something else but at the last moment I didn’t like it anymore, so I decided to finish this instead. I really hope it’s somewhat good. English is not my first language so be sure to feedback me if you spot any errors.
The notorious slytherins had come up with a new scheme to avoid detention. A little game called flirt with the prefect. They all had their appointed prefect that they had to woo, so when they would run into said prefect any consequences could be flirted or kissed away.
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You were surprised when Mattheo Riddle suddenly showed interest in you. Part of you knew that it was suspicious, but Mattheo was charming and incredibly handsome. So, he had you wooed in no time. You would blush and smile at everything he said to you and when he did small things for you like hold a door or carry your books, you would bite your lip and avoid his gaze. You had fallen for him, so bad, and he knew, so well.
The flirting had been going on for weeks and so far they hadn’t run into you during prefect patrol. That was until tonight. You heard laughter in the distance and quietly made your way to the dark hallway from which the noise came. When you see the group of slytherins you immediately start to blush, knowing very well who’s amongst them. “This is at least a week's detention.” You speak up calmly and give the group a little jump scare. Mattheo’s eyes lock with yours and you smile. This is going to be easy. “Oh come on, love, why don’t you join us?” Mattheo asks cheerfully. For a moment you drown in his eyes, but you manage to snap out of it. “Nice try, but how about you all join Mcgonagoll in her office.” “Oh come on, (y/n), Matt has been wanting to introduce you to us for weeks.” Blaise pushes, giving you a bright smile. They all see you light up at the idea of being special to Mattheo. “Okay, guys we’re passed curfew, let’s just leave.” Mattheo says as he walks over to you with a playful smile.
Mattheo hanging with his friends, up to no good.
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“No, you know I’m supposed to guide you to professor-“ You fall silent when Mattheo wraps his arm around you, his hand resting on the small of your back. You rest your hand on his chest in an attempt to keep a little distance. “Isn’t it just a few more minutes before your shift ends?” He asks his eyes never leaving yours. You see his friends leaving out of the corner of your eyes, their laughter makes you feel anxious and insecure. “Hey, let me keep you company.” Mattheo suggests dragging your attention away from his snickering friends. You nod and his hand slips away from you back to hold your hand. You walk around together for a few more minutes and then you check in with Mcgonagall, when you leave her office Mattheo is waiting for you around the corner. Even though he had promised you, you were still a little surprised he was there.
He walked you to your prefect bedroom. “Thanks for walking me to my room.” You sound more nervous than you had anticipated. Mattheo’s lips form an adoring smile and his arm snakes around your waist again. “Thanks for letting me and my dumb ass friends of the hook.” You shake your head. “Don’t get used to it, it was a one time thing, Mattheo.” Your face heats up as you notice he’s gently leaning in. “I promise this isn’t going to be a one time thing.” He says seductively before brushing his soft lips over yours and kissing you with surprising softness. When you break the kiss he lets his forehead rest on yours and watches your face. You looked dreamy, mostly because you had been dreaming of this moment for weeks. Mattheo gives you a soft peck on the lips before letting go of you. As soon as his arm leaves you, you're in desperate need for his warmth again.
“Wanna come in?” You ask pointing at your bedroom door in an attempt to win his warmth back. He stares at you with shiny eyes. This was taking the game too far but he also really wanted you. “Chances are I might never wanna leave.” And with those words it was like he owned you. He made you feel so wanted and loved. That’s probably why it only took a few seconds for him to be on top of you.
Mattheo had almost tackled you into your bed. One of your hands roamed his chest, while your other mercilessly messed up his hair. Mattheo on the other hand had a firm grip on your ass but was mostly interested in kissing you like his life depended on it. You rolled so you were on top and gave him a fiery kiss before sitting up and taking off your shirt. Mattheo watched you with starry eyes and pushed himself up to kiss you. He quickly moved to your neck and shoulder, while you worked on unbuttoning his shirt. Once a few buttons were undone, he just pulled it over his head and you both fell back on the bed again.
After some sloppy kisses you pull away from him and sit up again, your hand traces down to his pants. Mattheo’s eyes already roll to the back of his head at the idea of your touch. You make quick work of his belt and he is eager to help you lower his pants. Mattheo lets out a soft growl as you grip his shaft tightly, your thumb playing with his tip. He closes his eyes as you start pumping his hard cock. However, after a moment his eyes fling back open as he feels your mouth wrap around him. “Fuck, (y/n).” He watches you as you try to take in as much of him as you can. He lets out a few pleased moans and his fingers softly tangle in your hair. Mattheo bites his lip, his eyes glued to your head bobbing on his cock. “You’re being too good for me.” He pants and he closes his eyes again. You swirl your tongue on his dick swallowing his precum. “Okay, that’s it, love.” He suddenly snaps and tugs your hair. You’re a bit surprised for a moment, thinking you’ve done something wrong, but when his lips crash into yours you stop worrying.
“Good girls like you deserve to be taken care of.” Mattheo breaths as he kisses you with passion. He unclasps your bra and in a matter of moments you’re underneath him. He cups and squeezes one of your breasts while his tongue plays with your nipple, circling around it. When both your nipples are perked and covered in his saliva he moves down to your skirt. Now that you’re fully naked he takes in your entire body. “I’m gonna have your pretty cunt beg for me.” Like it wasn’t already. His fingers work tauntingly slow, teasing your folds before pushing in. When you arch your back and buck your hips wanting more of his fingers he leans down to let his lips brush over yours and then moves down to your chest. Your moans turn into whimpers and it encourages him to play with your clit even more, letting his fingers work at a rough pace. “Please. I need you.” You manage to utter. “No no, love, I need you to be absolutely soaking wet for me.” You wimper. “I am. I need-Riddle please.” You beg. “Am I still just Riddle to you. I am clearly doing something wrong.” He says playfully and pulls his fingers away.
His mouth moves from your boobs to your pussy. He eagerly starts eating you out. “Mattheo please.” You beg him as his mouth fucks you, but he’s clearly not pleased with your answer and just grabs a hold of your hips so his tongue can sink in deeper. You feel yourself climaxing. “Matty.” You cry out as you feel your entire body tense. Satisfied that you’re this close Mattheo pulls away adoring the mess he has turned you into. He spreads your legs so he can align his cock with your glinstering cunt. “I’m gonna move in slowly, but I’m going to fuck you so hard.” You can hear how turned on he is by the tone of his voice. His with cum soaked dick easily enters your wet pussy. You still feel stretched and full when he’s inside and your hands push on his chest signaling that he needs to give you a little time to adjust. He lets his cock rest inside you and takes this moment to treat you with soft kisses.
When you wrap your legs around him he starts moving into you softly, but as soon as he realizes you can handle more he’s pounding into you. The pace at which he’s thrusting and his sweaty panting body above you has you feeling feelings you hadn’t felt before. “Rid-Matty.” He looks at you with an amused smile, but there’s something dark in his eyes. “If you call me by my last name like I’m some stranger I’ll pull out and leave you like the mess you are.” You nod with innocent eyes, turning him on even more. Merlin, you're making him go feral. He grabs your hips and slams into you. You grab a hold of your pillow, partially hiding your face as your orgasm washes over you, shaking and moaning underneath him. “(Y/n), you are so beautiful, please don’t hide from me, (y/n).” It came out way more pleading than intended, but Mattheo was so close and his dominant side really needed to see you, all of you. Seeing your pretty and flustered face had him spilling his seed into you.
After that he helped you clean up and put on your pajamas. You helped him find his boxers among the scattered clothes in your room. He didn’t intend to stay the night but his orgasm had drained his energy and you looked so comfortable to snuggle with. It ended up being a night of switching between being the big and little spoon. However, the morning after was so warm and safe that the both of you stayed in too long, having to rush to get ready for class.
***
Mattheo had forgotten his jacket so as soon as you’re ready you go look for him. You spot him rushing towards his friends who’re standing at the entrance of the great hall. “You went out of your way to get us out of detention.” You hear Blaise say as he pats Mattheo’s shoulder. “You seriously slept with her. I mean flirting with prefects is one thing but sleeping with them.” Draco ads before Mattheo can say anything. “Guys, guys.” Theodore suddenly hushes everyone as he points his head, making Mattheo turn around to see you standing there with teary eyes holding his jacket. “You forgot this, Riddle.” You say with a shaky voice as you reach to give him his jacket back. Mattheo’s head tilts and his lips part, he wants to say something, but no words come. He reaches for you, but you just push his jacket into his arms. “(Y/n), what you heard wasn’t true.” Mattheo tries to explain but you let out an angry half laugh. “You don’t need to explain. I get it you whored yourself out of detention. I hope you’re real proud of yourself.” You say it loud enough for some people to catch on. You quickly walk away and Mattheo shuts his eyes, cursing himself.
Mattheo turning around and seeing you.
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***
“Pans, can you pass me those mashed potatoes?” Mattheo asks as he points towards a bowl near her. “Depends, I hear you are willing to do a lot to get what you want, mister manwhore.” Pansy and her friends snicker and Mattheo just gets up leaving his food for what it is. “That sensitive?” Pansy quirks an eyebrow. “(Y/n) quit as prefect and skipped every class today.” Theo explains. “So? What did Matt expect?” Theo sighs. “Apparently, without any of us noticing, Riddle… kind of… fell in love with (y/n).” Pansy’s eyes widened. “No way!”
***
Mattheo had been searching for you the entire day so when he finally spots you walking alone after dinner he rushes towards you. As he’s fast walking in your direction, he feels his anger build up. Anger mainly directed towards himself, but also towards you for not giving him a chance to explain. So when he gets a hold of you he shoves you against a wall. His arms rest on the wall on either side of you locking you in and his angry eyes scare you. “You’re going to listen to me.” He demands and you try to push him aside but it’s pointless. “I didn’t whore my way out of detention. I fucked you because I wanted to! Because I want you. Because I’m fucking falling for you.” When he sees your face soften up after hearing his confession, he calms down and cups your cheek. “I know I screwed up, but you have to give me a chance.” Mattheo’s eyes are desperate and his voice is pleading.
The ‘give me a chance, I need you’ look.
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“You played me. You flirted with me because I was a prefect.” Mattheo’s heart aches as he sees your eyes getting teary. “That doesn’t matter anymore. This, me begging for you to give me a chance, is real.” There’s still doubt in your eyes, but Mattheo wants you. He can’t stand the idea of not having you, especially after getting to enjoy your warmth and love the night before. His fear of losing you peaks, making him clench his jaw. “I want you!! I’ll make you (y/n) Riddle. I’ll make you the mother of my children. Fuck! You want me, (y/n), and you have me.” His voice is filled with harsh desperation, with a clear hint of regret and anger. “I’ve never felt this way before.”
Sweet ending:
Your eyes fall down to the floor and you stare at your feet, not knowing what to think of his words. Mattheo falls silent and drops his arms, giving you space to move away if you wish. His entire body tenses to keep himself from falling apart as he sees your fidgeting fingers. He slowly reaches for your hands, taking them in his and drawing circles on the back of your hand. That you allowed him to do that gave him courage to speak up again with a soft voice. “(Y/n), I-” You interrupt him by squeezing his hand and your eyes lock. “I’ve never felt this way before either. That’s why I’m so scared to get hurt.” You admit with a shaky voice and watering eyes. Mattheo presses his head against yours. “I’m so sorry.” He whispers with a heart gripping honesty.
Slowly your head moves to lay on his shoulder and Mattheo finally finds peace now that he can wrap his arms around you again. “I’m sorry I said that you whored your way out of detention.” You whisper with your head still resting on him. You hear Mattheo softly chuckle and he leans his head against yours. “You don’t have to apologize, honestly, you should’ve said worse. I know I deserve it.” You lift your head to say something, but decide no words can explain what you’re feeling. So you cup his cheek and bring your lips to his.
Smutty ending:
Your silence makes him panic. If he can’t convince you with words, actions might do the trick. He pushes you into a nearby empty classroom. He falls to his knees. “You don’t want to believe me, I’ll make you believe me.” He snarls as he pulls your panties down with a harsh tugg. He immediately diggs in and you let him, reaching for his curls as you buck your hips so his tongue is where you want it. He was going to fuck you with his mouth, fingers and cock until you were his.
Word count: 2645
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imfinereallyy · 11 months
Text
hummingbirds
Steve’s crying on the porch of his parents' house, with a duffel bag and baseball bat, when Eddie pulls into the driveway.
“Jesus, Steve, what happened?” Eddie crouches down to get eye level with Steve. Despite being dark out, the sun set long ago, and the outdoor lights weren’t on. Steve turns to look at his parents' car in the driveway and thinks back to when the lock had distinctly turned shut on the front door. They were around to switch the lights on; they just didn’t care anymore to do so.
Steve is grateful for the moonlight, as he can see the pretty lines on Eddie’s face. Even if they currently curve into a frown.
“Hey Eds.” Steve’s voice cracks.
“Stevie…what happened?” Eddie asks again, this time it’s gently. It cradles Steve and holds him softly. He wishes Eddie’s hands would do the same.
“Did you know hummingbirds are the only birds that can fly backward?” Steve sniffles.
Eddie’s face scrunches in confusion, “What? Birds? You lost me.”
Steve pushes past Eddie’s confused face. “They are the only birds to fly backward. Surprisingly, it wasn’t Dustin to teach me that out of the munchkins. It was actually El. She’s apparently going through a bird phase. And I don’t think the others are very interested. So I try to pay attention when she talks about it. And she taught me about hummingbirds.”
Eddie settles on his knees, “That’s great, man and those little shits should listen to her more, but I’m not sure what that has to do with what’s wrong. You called me to come pick you up and hung up before I could even answer.”
Steve bites his lip, “Sorry, my dad clicked the phone off.” Eddie’s face shows surprise, but Steve keeps talking before he can interrupt. “And well, I guess hummingbirds have nothing to do with anything. It’s stupid, really.”
“No, no. It’s not stupid. Tell me about the birds, Stevie.” Eddie’s hand finally reaches out to Steve. He brushes the fallen hair out of his face, and something in Steve just sets him off.
“You see, they can fly backward. And well, no, I’m getting ahead of myself. You see, my cousin Tucker is here to visit. And let me tell you, he is the worst. Like Eddie, you would hate him. Conservative, capitalist enthusiast, real bootlicker kind of guy.”
“Sounds like the worst. Especially if he made you use the big words.” Eddie’s hand falls away, and Steve mourns the loss. Normally, when people make jokes about his intelligence, it stings. It makes him feel small. But when Eddie does it, it isn’t mean or a poke at how stupid Steve is. With Eddie, it’s almost like he’s reminding Steve that he is smart. That maybe Steve is the one making himself small.
He is.
“Anyway, he’s visiting, right? So my parents come home. And I haven’t seen them in months, since before spring break. It’s nearly October, and I haven’t seen them, and I can’t tell if I’m excited or dreading their arrival. It’s always a fight when they are around, how I’m not good enough, how I should be more. Their visits always end up being cut short, and me feeling like shit. But this stupid, stupid part of me was hoping it would be different this time. They haven’t seen me since the “earthquakes.” Surely they’ll be happy to see I’m okay, right?”
Eddie stays silent, his face revealing nothing.
“Of course, it’s not. They only came home because my cousin Tucker was in town. All the way from Indy cause it’s so far. And my mom ‘made’ dinner, as in she ordered it and pretended she made it. It wasn’t even that good, but we all pretended it was the best thing ever made. Cause that’s what they do, pretend. And the dinner is fine, boring. Most of it is just me staying silent while my dad and Tucker talk about the business. Tucker runs the Indy office while my dad is in New York. Ya see, Tucker has been gunning to take over for my dad when he retires, which is another word for dies—“ Steve let’s put a bitter laugh; he wonders if his parents are listening. He doubts it.
“—and they are going on for the whole meal, and I’m almost through the home stretch when my dad brings up me, coming to work for him.”
Eddie reacts finally, “You’re going to New York?” His voice is strained, like he is trying very hard not to yell, not at Steve, but at anyone who will listen. Steve is quick to correct.
“No, no, I’m not. This was news to me to Eds. I have no interest in my dad's business, and as far as I was concerned, he didn’t want me a part of it either. Guess that has changed. Has? Had? I don’t know…” Steve trails off.
“Harrington.”
“Don’t call me that. It makes me think you’re mad at me. Besides, it doesn’t fit me anymore.” Steve bites.
“Sorry, Steve. I’m not mad. I promise. Just, what do you mean?” Eddie’s head tilts to the side, his curls cascading down his shoulder. It reminds Steve of a river, dark water rippling in the moonlight.
“I was so shocked, Eds. When he said that. That I was quiet, I should have corrected him, maybe. Maybe I could have fixed it. But Tucker was so quick to act. He was pissed. He knows my working for my dad means me being set up to take over. And Tucker, he’s worked too hard to make sure he does get the business. But instead of yelling, he just gets this concerned look on his face. And he…”
“He what?”
Steve wrenches his eyes shut as he recalls the rest. As he recalls the way Tucker’s face faked worry as he struck. Like he has been waiting for the right moment to ruin Steve. He manages to open his eyes eventually, only to see Eddie’s face once again. The honest look on his face is enough to push Steve on.
“In the summer, Robin was feeling sad. This was before you guys knew about each other, and I was the only one who knew about her. And she was sad cause nothing had happened with Vicky and she felt so alone. And I hated seeing her like that. And so, so I took her to Indy. And, and—“ Steve starts to hyperventilate.
Eddie takes him by the shoulders. “Breathe for me, Steve. Come on, baby, match my breaths. It’s okay. It’s okay.”
Steve matches Eddie’s breath. Ignores how the word baby calms him down instantly. “Tucker told my dad that he saw me in Indy. That he saw me come out of a gay club, Eddie. And he went on about how they should focus more on getting me help, than putting me in a power position, again Eds, which I don’t even want! And how I would be a bad look for the company. How would it look if a company whose whole image is family values, only successor, turned out to be gay.”
Eddie flinches a bit, but doesn’t let go of him. Steve feels instant regret. “That isn’t what I meant, Eddie.”
Eddie shushes him, “I know, sweetheart. You’re just upset. I know. Did you tell him that you weren’t there for you? Or maybe that Rick was mistaken; it was a regular club?”
Steve rubs a hand down his face, “And what? Tell him that my two best friends in the entire world are gay? So that I can be shipped off to New York and never see them again? Yeah right. I’d rather face the bats again than be removed from you two. And I’m not going to out you guys like that.”
Something warm crosses Eddie’s face, “So, you lied then?”
“Before I could say anything my dad reacted.”
Eddie freezes, a darkness swims in his eyes. “He put his hands on you?”
“No, no!” Steve panics, and he purposely leaves out the ‘not this time.’ Eddie isn’t necessarily a violent person. But he does have a protective streak. As admirable as it is, Steve doesn’t want him to get hurt.
Eddie relaxes but only slightly.
“He was actually pretty calm, which is even more terrifying. I expected him to yell, throw things. But instead he just turns and says, ‘Is this true, Steven?’. And what gets me is they didn’t even question why my cousin was anywhere near that club in the first place. Why did he see me there? Instead, he just asks me if it’s true. And it’s the first time in a long time, if ever, that my dad asks me this. He always just assumes I’ve fucked up. And this time, he really asked me about the truth. And I couldn’t, I couldn’t lie. I don’t know why, but it felt wrong to. So I didn’t. I just told him, ‘Yes. It’s true.’”
“Stevie…”
Steve throws out a bitter laugh, “And you know what? He still doesn’t freak out. He just tells me I have five minutes to get my shit and get out. That I needed to call a ride because the car was under the name Steve Harrington, and I was no longer a Harrington. And he was so calm. And my mom just sat there, and I just listened. I didn’t fight. I am so tired of fighting.”
“Steve, why not just tell them the truth? Tell them you were there for a friend?” Eddie’s tone isn’t scolding, only curious.
“See, that’s because I started thinking about hummingbirds, Eddie. I started thinking about how they fly forwards and backward and how they are the only ones that can do that. Isn’t that fascinating? These small birds are so strong and interesting, and can do something no one else can do. But no other birds understand; the rest of them just fly forwards Eds. And I—I feel like that sometimes. That I’m not flying in one direction, ya know?”
Steve feels like he isn’t making much sense, but then Eddie nods and looks at Steve. Like really looks at Steve, and sees him. And Steve feels raw, stripped of his skin, exposed, and it should hurt, but it feels so fucking good. And Eddie stares deep into Steve’s eyes and says, “Yea, I know.”
“I didn’t want to lie. Because even though Tucker was wrong, he was also right. I wasn’t there for me, but I think I needed to be there. To get it. And I think that I’m flying backward, Eds. And I’m worried it’s wrong of me, that it shouldn’t be allowed. And that there is no purpose to me flying backward if I can just go forwards. If I can just fly with the rest of them. But I don’t think, I don’t think I’ve ever really taken flight before. Not before I understood I could also go backward.”
It’s in this moment, where Steve is covered in tears and snot that Eddie finally takes his hands and cradles Steve’s face. Steve’s never felt safer.
“Listen to me, sweetheart; there is nothing wrong with you. Okay? Nothing wrong with you. Just because you can fly forwards doesn’t mean you have to, doesn’t mean you should. Sometimes you’re going to have to fly backward; you’re not going to have a choice. It’s just the direction you’re fast, huge, hummingbird heart takes you. And it might take you a bit to learn that. To understand that, but I will make sure that you do. Because you, Steve Harrington, are fucking fearless and fucking beautiful, and I am so goddamn proud of you.”
Steve finally reaches his breaking point and collapses in Eddie’s arms. Full body, ugly sobs wreck Steve. He is sure that he is soaking Eddie’s favorite Black Sabbath t-shirt to the bone, but he can’t find it himself to care. His fingers dig into Eddie’s back as he clutches tighter as his breathing picks up.
“Breathe, baby, breathe. Remember that. I got you. I got you.” Eddie whispers into Steve’s ear.
Steve picks his head up when he finally calms down, and looks at Eddie. “You.”
“What’s that?” Eddie says softly, rubbing circles through Steve’s polo.
“I called you. Because, I think—no, I know, that I’ve been flying backward, to you. For a while now. And I knew that, even if you weren’t too, you’d still show up. And I just—just need you to know that. I am so grateful you showed up.”
Steve knows he should feel nervous telling Eddie all this, but he isn’t. He strangely feels like his dad at this moment, calm and unmoving. Steve doesn’t understand many things in this world, but he understands that even if Eddie doesn’t love him like that, Eddie still loves Steve in plenty of other ways.
It’s still nice, though, when Eddie leans forward and kisses Steve’s forehead. Steve closes his eyes and releases a breath.
Eddie slides his head down slightly so their foreheads are pushed together affectionately. “Stevie, I’ll always fly backward to you.”
Although it’s awful how they got here, Steve can’t help but feel happy at this moment. He also can’t help the silly giggle that comes out of him, “I think we have just lost all meaning to this metaphor at this point.”
Eddie snorts, “Oh, have we? And here I thought we were having a nice moment, a poetic one at that, telling each other ‘I love you.’”
Steve blinks at him, “You love me?”
Eddie frown lines finally turn upwards, “Yea baby, I love you.”
“I—“
Eddie cuts Steve off. “Tell me in the morning. When your tears have dried, and I’ve woken up with you in my arms. I want to hear it in the daylight. Okay? Let’s go home.” Eddie stands, offering a hand to Steve.
“Home?”
“Yea home, got to fly back to our nest.”
Steve can’t help the snort he releases, “Dork.”
Eddie just smiles, “Thought I told you to save the ‘I love you’ til the morning.”
Steve smiles back as he takes Eddie’s hand, “I didn’t…”
Eddie squeezes Steve’s fingers, “Yea, ya did.”
****
I’m back, not dead, and in my feelings. Thinking about expanding on this one. I hope you guys like it. 🧡🧡
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vivwritesfics · 4 months
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Fake It Till You Make It - CL16
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The Princess of Monaco is wild and out of control. She needs to stop being in the tabloids for all the wrong reasons. Charles Leclerc has had a spot of bad press since his very public break up. He needs some good PR. What better way to fix their problems than to pair them up?
Fake Dating turned real dating trope
6.3K
For the purpose of this story, I have fabricated the royal family of Monaco. I have created the members of the family, their roles and what they do, using only the fact that Monaco has a royal family
ROYAL MESS
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In the early hours of the Morning on Friday, the 19th of May, Princess Y/N of Monaco was found lying in the street outside of MK Club Monaco after what appears to be a wild night out. Fans of the princess know this is no new occurrence for her.
When asked, employees in the club were quoted as saying: “It is always a delight to serve the princess. She is always polite and kind when ordering from the bar, always offering to pay for the drinks of those around her."
"Princess Y/N is fun to party with, sure. But she takes it too far, gets too drunk, and leaves us all wondering how far is too far?" Said one club patron to our reporters.
It leaves us all wondering how far is too far for the Princess of Monaco? When will her family finally take action against her partying ways?
Pictures such as these are not uncommon for the Princess of Monaco, showing us just how far royal privilege goes. It is at times like these where we thank any higher power above us that she is just the spare
Y/N's brother threw the newspaper down in front of her. His jaw was tense and his eye twitched, having just read out the entire article. "Seriously?" He said and leaned forward on his desk, staring down at his sister.
"I don't know what you're so upset about," Y/N muttered as she picked at the dirt beneath her nails. "You're not in the article."
Her brother, Herni, Prince of Monaco, let out a huff. He wanted to grip his hair and pull out of frustration, but he couldn't do that, he had to be pristine and perfect.
For years he and his family had been working to try and improve Y/N's image. It was no easy task. Well, Y/N certainly didn't make it easy. The royal family had tried to control the press, control what the night clubs were saying; they had tried to control Y/N, but none of it was working.
Henri was at his wits end.
He stood straight and turned around, looking towards the window. "How do you not understand that your actions reflect our entire family? That this shit makes all of us look bad, not just you?"
"Like the article said, I'm just the spare," she spat back, not looking up from her nails.
"Oh, don't give me that shit." Henri tried to keep his composure calm, tried not to lose his shit, but Y/N was making it very, very hard. "You're just a spoiled, little brat," he hissed.
Y/N let out a dry laugh. "I'm the selfish one? Seriously, Henri?" She called and he shot her a dirty, venomous look. So, she continued. "Who was it that threw a tantrum like a child when he didn't get the Ferrari 250 GTO for twenty-third birthday?"
Her brother glared, easily hiding his surprise that she remembered the name of the car he had so desperately wanted seven years ago.
But then Henri dropped his glare. She was just lashing out because she was pissed off about the article, he realised as he sat in his seat. "Go on, get out of here," he said to her, his head falling into his hands. He grabbed the newspaper article and slipped it back into his desk drawer.
Y/N didn't have a job. She was twenty-two, living fast and living off her family. Her family had tried to force her to get a job, but that had only pushed her into being more wild and out of control. Henri, though, he had a job. Their father had given him the important task of keeping an eye on Y/N and putting out her fires. It was an exhausting job, one that had him losing sleep.
He had to do something, he had no idea what.
There was one thing Henri could force his sister to do. And that was attend the Monaco Grand Prix.
Every year Henri and Y/N went to the Monaco Grand Prix. Y/N could still remember the first time she ever attended the Monaco Grand Prix. She was just ten years old, an eighteen year old Henri holding her hand as they walked through the paddock. She remembered standing up on the podium, watching as her brother gave a trophy to Jenson Button, and going to give Fernando Alonso a trophy of his own.
This happened every year. And, every year since she was a little girl, Y/N looked forward to seeing Fernando Alonso. The Spaniard always seemed to remember her, always greeting her with a kind, wide smile. Although Y/N loved the races, this was her favourite part of the weekend.
Because she really did love the races. As much as she tried to act nonchalant, Henri knew she loved it, loved the sounds of the cars as they came driving past.
This year, Henri kept Y/N in front of him as they walked through the paddock, waving at the drivers and the teams. The Grand Prix was full of celebrities, as it was every year. And, as with every year, Y/N and Henri were the talk of the town.
In the Red Bull garage, Y/N and Henri met Tom Holland, the Spider-Man, who was awestruck. He couldn't quite believe it as the youngest member of the Monaco Royal Family stood in front of him, talking to him about his role as Peter Parker.
At the Aston Martin garage, Y/N ran straight into Fernando's arms. "There she is," he said as she hugged him back. The bond Y/N had with Fernando was special. They'd saw each other only once a year at the Monaco Grand Prix and, in a weird way, it was like he had watched her grow up right in front of his eyes.
He knew of her partying ways and it worried him, just like it would a father to his daughter. "How have you been?" He asked, his Spanish accent thick.
As Henri moved onto the Ferrari garage, his favourite garage, as Y/N chatted to Fernando. Her favourite garage was wherever Fernando was, and she wasn't afraid to admit that. They caught up on the last year and Fernando introduced her to his teammate, a man Y/N had only met briefly before.
In the Ferrari garage, Henri said hello to Carlos Sainz. Carlos and Henri had always been friendly, that friendliness growing into some kind of friendship when he moved to Ferrari.
But then then was Charles Leclerc.
Herni loved Charles. He had several of his old F1 cars, including one of his Sauber cars, in his private collection. He'd been following Charles's career closely as he represented their country. The day he had his first win in Monaco was going to be a big day for Henri.
"Ah, Charles!" Henri called as he spotted him, already in his race overalls.
The overalls themselves were red and white, matching the flag of Monaco. Charles grinned when he saw Henri, striding over to the prince. "How are you? How is your sister?" He asked as they walked together through the Ferrari garage.
Henri pulled a face. "She is... she is Y/N," he answered with a curt nod. "Anyway, how about you? How is your season going?" He asked.
Charles gave a pained smile, and that was answer enough for Henri. "Ah," he said as they continued to walk. "Well, today will be your day."
The pair continued to chat as they walked through the paddock, catching up like old friends. Because, by this point, they were old friends. Herni asked about Charles's family and his plans for the summer break, and about his girlfriend.
Again, Charles gave Henri a look. "Ah, no girlfriend," Henri said and Charles nodded.
"I got a bit of bad publicity from it," Charles said. "I'm surprised you didn't hear about it."
Suddenly, Henri got an idea. An incredible, wonderful, terrible idea. He looked at his friend, wearing a grin, and said, "I think we can help each other out."
It was clear Charles was confused. So, Henri continued. "My sister wild and out of control," he said. "She needs somebody to get her imagine under control, and you need some good publicity. Take my sister on a couple of dates, take her to some grand prix and it'll make the both of you look good."
Charles suddenly frowned. "What? Henri, we can't do that," he said.
Henri checked his watch. The race was bound to start any moment now, he needed to grab Y/N and go sit. "Think about it," he said to Charles, wished him good luck, and went back to the Aston Martin garage to find his sister.
Henri didn't say anything to his sister as they watched the race. They watched Charles go from pole to second, Henri trying not to let the disappointment show on his face as he watched Y/N give Charles his second place trophy.
There was a good few weeks where Henri didn't hear anything from Charles. So, he didn't say anything to Y/N, whilst also trying to get her under control.
It wasn't working; Henri was close to begging. He kept an eye out for Charles's name in the press, looking for that bad bit of publicity he was talking about. And there was a lot of it, international news outlets accusing Charles of cheating, saying his bad start to the season was because of Karma.
It wasn't looking good for him, thought Henri as his phone vibrated.
He picked it up and read through his messages.
Charles Leclerc
I'm in
***
It was rare for Y/N and Henri to eat dinner together. He was always busy and she didn't give a shit. But, today, Henri insisted.
They sat across from each other, a ridiculously long table between them. Any attempt at conversation was near to impossible with the distance between them.
So, with no thought of decorum, Y/N picked up her dinner and moved down the table coming to sit right beside her brother. "What were you saying?" She asked as she tucked into her dinner.
Henri cleared his throat. "I've been speaking with Charles Leclerc."
"Okay?" Y/N looked up at him, her brows furrowed. "Good for you, Hen."
"Just listen, please," he insisted and Y/N fell quiet, returning her attention back to her food. "Its been decided by your PR team, dad, and I, that it would be best if you were seen to be with someone more... presentable. And our friend Charles if also in need of a bit of good press at the minute."
"So you want me to fake date Charles Leclerc?"
Henri nodded his head. "Not fake date him, exactly. Just be seen with him."
Y/N sat back, tapping her fork against her plate. "Okay, why should I?"
Grinning, Henri used his fork to scoop everything into a pile on his plate. "Because, if you keep up with your partying lifestyle, we're cutting you off."
She said nothing. Throwing her fork down, she pushed her chair back and stormed off.
That was the thing with Y/N. She didn’t care for propriety or her image. She did what she wanted, without much thought of how it made the royal family of Monaco. She was the weekly scandal in the newspaper, the wild child.
Henri’s head fell into his hands.
For the next week, while Charles was away from Monaco at another race, Henri set everything up. He booked out a restaurant for them, picked out something for his sister to wear and prepared her for her date with a script. Henri was controlling everything. He had every move planned out and had Y/N run through it with him several times.
He was a complete control freak.
For the date, Henri gave his sister a set of rules. Charles was his friend, after all, and this was a PR stunt. Anything he could do to prevent Y/N from embarrassing the royal family any further.
That was how she found herself in an empty restaurant, an almost empty glass of wine in front of her. Charles Leclerc hadn’t arrived at the restaurant yet; fashionably late, Y/N assumed. She was five minutes away from leaving.
But then he walked in. It was not possible for this man to look bad, Y/N realised as he strode towards her. His outfit was simple, a white shirt, buttoned almost to the top (just revealing a bit of chest) and a pair of black trousers. His hair had that usual fluff, that he seemed to achieve effortlessly.
Y/N had seen pictures of him online since his career began. He always looked good, so it was no surprise he did now.
"I'm sorry I'm late," he said as he sat in the seat opposite her.
As if to prove a point, the princess finished her drink and placed her glass down. There was a flash to her left, a camera going off. But she didn't care - Henri could put out the fire he created.
Henri had given her a script, but Y/N wasn't going to follow it. That was boring. "Your brother is in F2, right?" Asked Y/N as food was brought over to them (Henri had decided what they were going to eat when he booked out the restaurant, arranging the food to be brought over as soon as Charles arrived).
Charles looked at her, clearly confused. "Um, yes," he answered. "He's with the Ferrari Drivers Academy," he said and took a sip of his own drink. "What is it that you do?"
She snorted. She hasn't meant to snort, but she couldn't help it. "I'm a princess, what do you think I do?"
But it wasn't clear. To Charles, it seemed like all she did was party. According to her brother, all she did was party. So Charles couldn't be blamed to think that.
He didn't answer her. This dinner wasn't going too well. That much was clear to everyone.
Letting out a sigh, Y/N sat back in her seat. "We need to make this look good," she said, glancing to her left. At the paparazzi not quite hidden in a bush outside of the restaurant. "You know what the news articles will be, right? 'Monaco Royalty... something something else."
Charles thought for a moment. The restaurant wasn't the right setting, this was clear.
So, he finished his drink and looked across the table, at the princess sat opposite him. "Do you want to get out of here?"
Fuck yeah Y/N wanted to get out of here. She grabbed her coat and, together, she and Charles walked out of the restaurant. A crowd of paparazzi followed them as they made their way to Charles's Ferrari SF90 Stradale.
It was a beautiful car, one Henri had wanted for the longest time. He he was going to flip his lid once he learnt that Y/N had been inside of it.
The paparazzi continued taking pictures of them as they drove off. "Where are we going?" She asked as he drove her through the streets of Monaco.
Y/N and Charles found themselves in a bar, three drinks deep. They talked casually, more like acquaintances than anything else.
Nothing happened in the bar, they just got to know each other a little better, without the awkward conversation of a formal dinner. Y/N found out about his love for music and he learnt that she was more than a just a party girl.
The next morning Y/N woke up in one of the many guest rooms with a pounding headache. She didn't remember getting back to the palace and was still in her dress from the night before. "Shit," she groaned, the light shining through her windows hurting her eyes.
She sat up and ran her hands through her knotted hair. Painkillers. She needed painkillers and she needed them now.
With no clothes to change into, she searched through the drawers for the much needed painkillers. And when she didn't find any, she made her way to her brothers office. "Henri," she sang as she pushed her way inside. And then she was leaning against the door, holding his head.
"I did it, I went on a date with Charles Leclerc."
"Well done," Henri said as he sat back in his chair. "He's taking you to Canada next week, so pack warm," he said and went back to his work.
Y/N glared at her brother and stormed off, making her way back to bed.
***
Canada. The only reason Y/N agreed to go was to see Fernando Alonso. She was there as Charles Leclerc's guest, but she didn't care. She ran straight to the Aston Martin garage, ran straight over to Fernando.
The Spaniard was surprised to see her, that much was clear. "What're you doing here?" He asked as she threw her arms around him.
Y/N swallowed the lump in her throat. "I'm here as Charles's guest," she answered.
Fernando's eyes went wide. "Really?" He asked, his brows furrowing.
"I know," she answered.
It really was a surprise. Fernando had never even seen the princess of Monaco so much as interact with the Monégasque driver. He knew Prince Henri was a fan, but he didn't know Y/N was. So, he asked about it.
She didn't want to lie to Fernando. But she had to seel it. For the sake of the tabloids, she had to sell it. "Well, we met at the Grand Prix, hit it off, and the next thing I knew, we were going to dinner together."
"Dinner together? Wow," said Fernando. "So, do you want me to go easy on him out there?"
Grinning, she shook her head. "You do what you need to do to bring home a win for us Aston Martin fans," she said.
They said their goodbyes and Y/N made her way to the Ferrari garage.
It wasn't as if she and Charles knew each other; they'd drunkenly discussed things, but that was it. But now, she was playing the girlfriend, tucked into his side as he kept his arm wrapped around her. Before the race he held her close and she tried her best not to look uncomfortable. Play the part. All she had to do was play the part.
During the race she stayed in the Ferrari garage, watching alongside Charles's brother. Y/N had met Arthur before, she just couldn't remember where.
"So you're dating my brother?" Asked Arthur as they watched the race.
Y/N kept her eyes fixed on the screen and nodded her head.
"How did that happen?"
She just pretended not to hear him.
This went on and on, the pair going on the odd date in random countries and Y/N joining him at races. But they were putting on a performance around each other, trying to play that part. They weren't being themselves and, therefore, not getting to know each other.
She'd joined Charles in Silverstone. They'd held hands as they walked through the paddock, smiling and waving at cheering fans. Their relationship was public knowledge now and, first the first time in the last four years, she wasn't in the tabloids for a bad reason.
Henri had arranged a date in Monaco for the pair once they got back from the British Grand Prix. They flew back with Pierre Gasly, an old friend of Charles. Y/N had only met Pierre earlier that year, in Monaco when her brother had introduced them.
Pierre was good fun for the flight home. But, by the time they got there, Y/N was exhausted. She wanted nothing more than to crawl into bed and shut her eyes. Looking at Charles, their was no doubt that he was just as tired as she was; he was the athlete after all.
As he drove, he blinked continuously and rapidly, his tiredness evident. Her apartment was just around the corner, she realised as they were stuck in traffic. It wouldn't be the worst thing if they blew off the dinner, right?
"I live near here," she said, looking at him.
Charles blinked as he looked at the stationary cars in front of him. "Am I not taking you to dinner?" He asked, somewhat surprised.
"Well, I was thinking we could go back to my apartment and eat some pizza," she said.
"But what do we have to gain from that?"
That was right, everything they were doing had an objective. Everything they were doing had a purpose. Having dinner in her apartment, where there were no cameras to watch them, had no purpose.
"We wouldn't die on the road from you being so tired if we went back to mine."
Charles realised she had a point. When the traffic began moving, he took her directions and drover to her apartment. They made their way inside, practically collapsing on the couch.
"Sorry for the state of it," Y/N muttered as Charles sat on the sofa beside her.
Her apartment really was a mess. Clothes, dirty dishes, pizza boxes everywhere. It wasn't very royal of her. "Don't worry about it," he said quietly as Y/N gathered up the dishes and placed them on the counter in the adjacent kitchen.
Charles didn't want to ask, but he was wondering how the apartment of the Princess of Monaco was so disgusting. He hadn't even realised she had an apartment of her own, assumed she just lived at the palace.
"Can I get you something to drink?" Asked Y/N as soon as she had ordered the cheese and pepperoni pizzas. It was a safe choice, considering she didn't know what Charles wanted. "I've got beers, wine, spirits, anything you want."
She didn't hide her surprise when Charles requested a beer. "I thought you were all... fancy and stuff," she said as she handed him the opened bottle.
"The princess of Monaco is passing me a beer and she thinks I'm fancy," he said with a laugh.
But he was undeniably tired. His laugh turned into a yawn and Y/N turned on the television. They watched in silence as they waited for the pizza to arrive.
"I didn't think you'd be allowed to eat pizza," said Y/N as she checked her phone, checked where abouts the delivery driver was. Just a few minutes away. "You know, considering you're an athlete."
"I won't tell my trainer if you won't," he answered.
Just a few minutes later and Y/N was running to get the pizza. She didn't have to worry about disguising herself, running down to the lobby of the apartment in her comfiest pyjamas. She wasn't like her brother, where he was always prim and proper; she hid in plain sight.
When she came back up with the pizzas, Charles was already snoring lightly on the sofa. Y/N would have left him to sleep, left him on the sofa, but he hadn't eaten since his race. As soon as he'd eaten something, she'd let him go to sleep.
So, she gently woke him, placing one of the pizza boxes in front of him.
Again, they were in silence as they ate. But the food was giving them some sort of strength and energy and, by the time they were finished, neither were quite ready to go to sleep.
So, they talked. They talked and talked, properly getting to know each other. Charles told her stories of his karting days, of his friendship with those on the grid. Y/N told him about her childhood as a princess and her friendship with Fernando Alonso. She didn't get into the subject of her partying habit, not when she realised she didn't miss it.
"No way," Y/N scoffed, sipping her beer.
Charles laughed as he nodded his head. "Seriously. I woke up shouting 'box box'!" He insisted.
She let out a laugh of her own. "Looks like I'll need to have words with the strategists."
Their evening continued much in this fashion. She hadn't realised he was an artist, not until he showed her some music that he hadn't yet released. He was a talented pianist, and Y/N couldn't stop herself from calling him a tortured artist.
There was no way she was going to let him sleep on the sofa. That would be like letting the Queen of England sleep in the dog house. So, she let Charles sleep in her bed, a wall of pillows keeping them separated.
***
There was a shift in their relationship dynamic after that. Things came easier to them. They were still faking it, but they weren't putting on a performance anymore. It was natural.
When they weren't together, she found herself texting him. Any time she had something to say, she texted him, without caring whether he had time to text her back yet. When Y/N wasn't at a grand prix, Charles was pictured laughing at his phone, and everybody knew who he was texting
CL16
what do you want your contact picture to be?
Please don't make it something embarrassing
Oh come on, Charles
I doubt there are any embarrassing pictures of you
okay i take it back
oh god
look at this little guy
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you were so cute
what happened?
Hey!
I'm still cute!
The ladies love me
sure they do, sunshine
She found herself sending him anything and everything that made her laugh. Whether they knew of this shift, it wasn't clear.
But Henri certainly did.
The next part of this story takes place during the Belgian Grand Prix. Y/N hadn't attended. She'd been to the last few and, for once, her brother wanted to spend time with her.
"I'm impressed," Henri said as they sat on the balcony, tea in front of them. "You're selling this whole relationship really well."
But his sister wasn't listening. Instead, she was giggling down at her phone as she texted. "Y/N," Henri prompted and she looked up from the phone. "Can you put it down? I'm trying to have a conversation with you."
Reluctantly, Y/N put her phone on the table. "What were you saying, Hen?" She asked and picked up her little tea cup. The rim was decorated with pink, yellow and purple flowers.
"I was saying that you've really made this relationship with Charles look real. If I didn't know better, I really would think you were dating," said Henri. He straightened his posture and sipped his tea. "What is he doing during summer break?"
She shrugged her shoulders. Summer break was something they'd only briefly talked about, while Y/N was in his apartment, trying out his sim rig (spoiler alert, she was fucking terrible at sim racing. But it was still good fun, pretending to be her pretend boyfriend). He'd invited her on his yacht by literally saying, "join me on my yacht during summer?"
It was an invitation Y/N couldn't turn down, so she just said, "sure."
Henri continued. "Why don't you invite him to the palace for dinner?"
That was too much of a step into real relationship territory. Immediately she shook her head. "You do know that he isn't actually my boyfriend, right?" She pressed, placing her teacup back down onto the saucer.
Henri waved her off. "I know, I know," he said. "It would just be nice, you know?"
Suddenly Y/N felt a little sick. This was skidding way too far into relationship territory. Fake boyfriends didn't have dinner with her family, fake boyfriends didn't take him to her apartment just because he could.
The next time she saw Charles, Y/N was on his yacht. She laid in the sun, arm across her stomach and her eyes shut. It was lovely, so fucking lovely.
Charles sat beside her, passing her a drink. "Thank you, Charlie," she said with a smile as she sat up. "Best fake boyfriend ever." He patted her knee and stayed at beside her as the yacht gently moved on the water.
They spoke and, as they spoke, Y/N realised they never spoke about how fake their relationship was. In fact, Charles wasn't acting as though their relationship was fake. Even as they walked to his apartment, through the building and away from prying eyes, he still held her hand.
When she sat on his yacht, talking to him about whatever, he kept his hand on her knee.
As they day got later, the two began drinking. "To us," He called and tapped his glass against Y/N.
"To us," Y/N repeated and drank her drink. They slept on the yacht that night, with Y/N changing from her swim wear into something a little warmer as the sun disappeared.
They ate together, drank together, and just spent time together. It was nice, giggling and leaning on each other. Charles just loved spending time with her, it seemed. He gave her his hoodie when she shivered and, when that wasn't enough, he tucked her into his side.
They were both getting tired and were both ready to go to bed. Y/N glanced up at him from her place against his side. That was when he leaned down to kiss her.
Y/N stood up immediately. "Woah, what the fuck?" She cried as she jumped away from him. "Charles, what the hell are you doing?"
"I... Just thought..."
"Well you thought wrong!"
Y/N stormed off, heading to the bedroom. She set up the bed, placing the cushions between them. They'd slept in the same bed several times since that very first time in her apartment, but hadn't since.
The next day, she got Charles to take to back to the marina. Whether paparazzi saw them or not, she didn't care as she stormed away from him without so much as a goodbye.
OFF THE RAILS
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Just when we thought things were looking up for the Monégasque Princess, it seems she is, once again, off the rails.
Princess Y/N has spent the last few months seemingly dating Formula One driver, Charles Leclerc. In this time, it appeared that the princess had halted her wild ways. The clubs she so often frequented were quiet without her presence.
But, after a rocky night on his luxury yacht, the couple appeared to go their separate ways. The Princess was seen storming away from the yacht on Monday morning.
Fans had been hoping that this was just a little spat between the popular couple, but after the Princess was spotted partying in Monaco just the night previous, fans soon lost hope.
She'd done so well staying in the medias good books for the last few months. But, ever since that night on the yacht, Y/N needed to get out. She needed to get out and have a wild night.
She'd never been a relationship person. When Charles had gone to kiss her, she'd been terrified. Why be in a relationship person when every relationship you've had was somebody trying to screw you over?
Because she had loved every minute with Charles. Every fucking minute. For once it felt like she wasn't being used, and they weren't even in a relationship. But Y/N couldn't see a future with him, not one where at least one of them didn't get hurt.
So, she ran away from it. She ran from him and her feelings, ran back into the embrace of the bottle. She partied the night away without caring who saw it.
Of course Charles saw it. It was the first thing he saw when he opened any form of social media. Her face plastered across his screen. Her in a low cut dress that perfectly showed off her figure. He sucked in a breath. She was meant to be his girl, and she didn't want him.
Even though they weren't together anymore, Y/N did stop with the partying. She calmed down immensely, no longer appearing in the tabloids. No longer appearing anywhere, actually.
Charles tried his best to forget about her. He didn't sleep around, he just put all of his energy into his work. He took sponsorship deals, did photoshoots and spent all of his time training. All to get Y/N out of his head.
Well, it didn't work. Charles couldn't forget about her. It was taking everything in him not to go to her apartment and tell her how he had fallen for her while they were supposed to be pretending to date.
Charles messaged Henri, asked how Y/N was doing, but Henri didn't seem to know.
That was because she hadn't been seen outside of her apartment in weeks.
When Henri told Charles, he knew he had to do something.
After attending the Italian Grand Prix alone, Charles made his way to Y/N's apartment. He had all of his things, having not made his way back to his own apartment.
When he knocked on her door, there was a moment before anything happened. He listened out, listening as she got off of the couch with a groan and walked over to the door.
The girl that answered the door was the girl that Charles was in love with, but she was hard to recognise. Hair a mess, bags under her eyes, wearing clothes that hadn't been washed in days.
When she pulled open the door, her face dropped. "Oh," she muttered, leaning against the door, not letting him see the mess inside. "What are you doing here?"
"Your brother told me you're not doing good."
"So?"
She was so quick to shut him down, to try and get him away from her apartment.
But, Charles pushed on. "So, I came to check on you. I'm worried about you."
Finally, she pushed open the door and allowed him inside.
The apartment was a state. Trash everywhere, dirty clothes about the floor, all of her dishes used and piled up around the apartment. There was half eaten food that was definitely rotting.
"Shit, Y/N," said Charles as she pushed the door shut.
She glared and threw herself back down onto the sofa. "Oh, fuck off," she said.
Charles sat on the end of the couch. It was the only place in the apartment that filthy. "I just want to help you," he said and began picking up the clothes on her floor.
And then Y/N sat up, causing Charles to stop what he was doing. "Why? Our entire relationship was fake, so why do you care?" She spat.
"Because." Charles stood up a little straighter, dropping her clothes into a little pile. "Because I love you. I know we were only fake dating, but it felt so real! And I realised that I actually do love you! I want to date you for real! I want to be the best real boyfriend ever, not the best fake boyfriend ever!" He exclaimed. "I don't know why you're so opposed to the idea. Those dates we went one, the ones after that first night in your apartment, they were amazing. I wouldn't have invited you to my yacht if I didn't seriously like you."
Y/N scoffed sarcastically. "Sure you do, Charles. Sure you, a world famous Formula One driver who can have anybody he wants, wants me, the troubled spare, the princess that nobody wants." She said it quietly, picking at her nails.
He leaned down in front of her, taking her hand in his and kissing the back of it. "I do. I really do want to be with you. Princess Y/N of Monaco, I want to take you on dates and I want you to join me at races. I want to show you off in the paddock and I want to take you on my yacht, kissing you with your permission. I want you, Y/N."
But the way she looked at him, she looked ready to cry. "I can't do heartbreak," she said and pulled her hand away from his. "Not with you, Charles. I can't handle you breaking my heart," she said and stood up.
Charles suddenly pulled her close. "I won't break your heart," he whispered and kissed the top of her head. "Now, go take a shower. I'll sort out... all of this."
Y/N did just that. She turned on the water and hopped into the shower as Charles picked up the rubbish. Mainly empty wrappers and bottles of soft drinks. There were plenty of pizza boxes that he shoved behind the bin, just for the time being. After that, Charles picked up her clothes from the floor. He shoved what he could into her washing machine and turned it on, leaving to pick up the plates.
When Y/N hopped out of the shower, the apartment wasn't clean. But it was better. The floor was now visible. As Charles cleared up the space between the couch and the television, Y/N set about washing the dishes.
"Pizza?" Charles offered as he walked over with some half full glasses and cups.
But Y/N shook her head as she scrubbed a bowl that was once full of cereal. "You know, for the first time in a while, I'm not feeling like pizza."
"We'll get you something better, then," Charles said and set about ordering food.
They sat on the couch, Y/N in the last of her clean clothes, tucked into his side. "If we're gonna try this, we'll need to go on proper dates," she muttered, her head against his chest. "And, eventually, you'll need to come and have dinner with my family."
Charles let out a laugh. "Relax, chérie, we're gonna take it one step at a time."
One step at a time.
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nuviastarsworld · 5 months
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Hii I wanted to ask if you could make some headcanons for monster hyun su from s2. Smut heqdcanons too if you can. I can't wait to see what s3 has in store for us.
—Headcanons | Cha Hyun-su [2]
!!!; explicit content, s1 Hyun-su’s monster x reader, oral sex; male recieving, doggy style, I’m not really used to writing headcanons so this is written in a normal paragraph format, I’m not good at writing smut I did my best. If anyone I know irl finds this I’ll cry...anyways!!! Enjoy :) make sure to leave comments so ik ur thoughts <33
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Imagine Hyun-su’s monster finding a particular type of interest in you.
When you and Hyun-su first met, he was infected, but that didn’t bother you, not in the slightest. When you got together, his monster side was showing up more and more often, to the point you got used to it.
His monster side came from his deepest desires, and one of his greatest ones was you. Whenever Hyun was close to you, his monster would tend to overreact, talking and whispering things about you in Hyun’s head all the time.
Hyun’s monster would show up at random moments, like when you and Hyun are having talks together. The monster would intrude and give aimless comments, as if trying to communicate with you, you’d normally just ignore his monster, or just to be comedic even talk back to Hyun’s monster as if you were friends. Not acknowledging that the more you did this, it encouraged his monster to lurk around you more and more.
It was even to the point were during your quiet times, like cuddling in the quarantine room, And Hyun would have a hold around you, his monster would pop up, then Hyun’s hold would tighten, squeezing you. Not tight enough to hurt you, but tight enough to make sure you couldn’t get out. Like it didn’t want you to leave.
Hyun su would obviously be worried about this. His monster side was trying to get too close to his girlfriend. Of course he’d be worried. As far as he knew his monster side was dangerous, but you’d always reassure him that you were fine, you wouldn’t admit that it was quite entertaining, and that a tiny part of you enjoyed the monster’s company.
You were fully aware that Hyun’s monster would never hurt you. So you weren’t worried in the slightest.
At times, When You and Hyun were alone in the quarantine room, things turn quite hot and heavy between you two. You’d be straddling Hyunsu on his lap on the couch, the two of you share a kiss that soon turns more passionate as seconds pass.
Hyun-su would normally keep his hands to himself until you say otherwise, but this time you feel his hands move around your body. From your hips to your back, squeezing and kneading your sensitive skin, putting his hands under your shirt.
You weren’t uncomfortable, just surprised, Hyun-su wasn’t this assertive when you two were alone. It took you enough time to realise it wasn’t Hyun, but his monster and by then it was already too late. You were on your knees Infront of Hyun su, but it wasn’t really Hyun-su. His pants down and his cock out. Ready for you to take in your mouth.
Hyun-su’s monster was definitely as needy as regular Hyun-su, if not even more. For anytime you’d slow down your pace, he’d whine and complain for you to go faster or harder.
His Monster side is also a head/hair grabber, especially if you’re wearing a ponytail. He likes to grab your head to make you suck him faster. Your hair just because.
He definitely likes to choke you sometimes, not to hurt you but to hear the sweet groans that come out of you when you do.
His monster side also enjoys cumming either on your face or in your mouth. Either way he likes it messy.
He also praises you when he feels as if your doing so well. Especially when he’s face fucking you and you try not to gag on his dick. He’d let out phrases like, ‘you’re such a good girl taking me so well’
Eventually it will end up with you arched on the couch, him ramming into you from behind, each thrust making a clapping sound as the skin collided, you moaning and crying at the same time because the pleasure is too much to take.
He holds your hips in place with both hands tightly, and he goes at a medium pace at first, but quickens at your request, he too is finding pleasure as you squeeze around his length and is reaching his high as minutes pass.
He would definitely comment about making you a mother...
When he’s about to come he’d pull out and release on your back, holding you upright as he pumps his load.
And after all this, Hyun’s monster would leave you exhausted and tired, putting you to sleep after, then Hyun’s eyes would fade away into their normal appearance, and he’d find his girlfriend naked underneath him on the couch, taking a short nap. He’d be so confused.
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